Empath's Streets
by Squito
Summary: Demeter, an empath living with a ragtag crew of other former Controllers and throwaways, has been working for the mysterious Yeerk "Meds" for over a year, searching for an end to the war with the Yeerks and Andalites. Will Ax help in Meds's plans?
1. Demeter

A/N: Okay, so there's no confusion later on, I got some of the descriptions and personality traits for Demeter and the other street kids from _Can't Get There From Here_, by Todd Strasser. (Examples: Demeter has vitiligo, Vertigo is an effeminate gay—though you don't see him until later chapters—and Mercury is Latino and a prostitute.) If you've never heard or read the book, you should. It's sad and depressing, but very deep and moving. (I LOVE MAGGOT!)

Summary: If you want the full summary, click my user name and check out my profile.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Animorphs or anything else of K A. Applegate's. I do, however, own Demeter, Vertigo, Hollow, Talon, Mercury, Meds, Pro Metheus, and a couple other OC's late in the story.

Warning: I'll probably change the rating later in the story, but the first chapter only contains some gore and language.

Chapter 1: The Empath 

"Everyone has a talent. What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark place where it leads."—Erica Jong

"V-visser, I apologize on behalf of my staff, but we are un-unable to infest her," the man stuttered, the armpits and back of his blue shirt starting to darken with sweat. With fear and nervousness shimmering around him, I was amazed there wasn't an even darker stain in the crotch of his pants. "She has a n-natural aversion to us. Whenever the human feels panicked or agitated, her emotions are reflected back at the Yeerk. The Yeerk is unable to concentrate on movement or memories at the barrage of mental force."

The blue centaur—Visser Three—glanced at me with one of his oddly shaded eyes, like a ring of weathered copper. I shivered in my own cloud of fear and shame. I had been placed in a small cell, enough room to crouch or sit and shuffle a few feet from one set of bars to another. My ribs and collarbone poked out from my skin, stretched to ridiculous proportions, my hair hung in ragged, limp hoops, and I wore one of those pathetic hospital gowns that showed off your butt in an inappropriate manner. They'd pumped me full of medication to faze me and loosen my guard, but I'd puked most of it outside the cage.

Visser Three turned his steely gaze back on the bastard who'd once been my father, now a Screamer, while I surveyed the room for the umpteenth time. The walls, floor, and tables were all varying shades of white—egg white, cream, pearl, stark, off-white. The only hint of color besides the man, visser, and me was the puddle of yellow vomit. On the tables and hooked onto the walls were complicated, medical machines I'd never seen in my father's section of the hospital in our old life.

(Every host—involuntary, of course—screams or complains. Why couldn't you infest one human girl whose volume is set a bit higher?) Visser Three growled. His tail blade twitched from side to side similar to a feline's. (Are you losing your ability to control your hosts, Ilun 529?)

"N-no, V-visser," the man said, sweating profusely now.

The visser smirked with his eyes, as he lacked lips. I swallowed the lump crawling up my throat and squashed the butterflies in my stomach, and glared at him. I could sense the ominous waves of discontent flowing off him and who they were aimed at.

FWAPP! Tail blade pressed against the man's Adam's apple, the visser leered at him. (It must be completely embarrassing to even _live_ after failing to achieve positive results of one single experiment.) The jagged edge sliced into flesh, a trickle of red flowing shortly.

I wanted to turn away or shut my eyes or yell at him to stop, but I was petrified, my muscles stiff and skin taunt across my cheekbones, a nonexistent scream rubbing my throat raw. Why did these people care so much about my disorder? It wasn't much from what I could tell.

"Vis—" The blade cleared the man's head from his shoulders, rolling until it thudded against a table leg. The body collapsed on the floor, a spurt of blood spraying the front of the visser's knees and hooves.

Visser Three chuckled. (I wonder if _your_ blood is red as well. Or is it as mismatched as your skin?) It took me a moment to realize he was talking to _me_. (Red and blue, perhaps? Or some other combination?)

Without acknowledging the weary state of my body, a flash of energy burned through me and I grasped the bars of my cage, spitting in his direction. "What the fuck did you do that for? Why do you care so much about what I can do? You bag of shit! I hope you rot! Why did you care so much that you kill your own?!"

He was unperturbed at my outburst. (It doesn't matter anymore. You are a failed experiment.) His hooves clopped serenely across the floor, not even skidding in the blood. He leaned his face towards me. (And so I'll simply erase you.) I spat at his cheek, but he simply wiped it off and glanced at the saliva. (Strange liquids you primates produce.)

Overhead, a speaker crackled to life and a voice made up of awkward snarls and hisses spoke. The visser's eyes flared and he turned away reluctantly, towards the single white door leading into here. I sighed with relief, some frantic, microscopic tendril in me wanting to live, despite the hunger gnawing at my belly and the reek of blood permeating my senses.

(Kill her.)

Two burly, green seven-and-a-half foot tall lizards covered in blades entered, their auras quiet, solemn, and controlled. I wondered for a brief instant whether they cared nothing for life outside their own species, or, being professional executors, had grown numb to their work. That thought dissipated as sausage thick fingers opened the door to my cell and reached in. I scampered as far back as I could, but those massive digits seized my gown and yanked me out, my left leg slipping through buttery vomit.

A flicker of amusement flashed through one of them as I gripped the bars, the force of the other's pull on my gown dislocating my fingers one by one. The amused one cocked his head at me and—quick as a cobra's strike—his arm blades sliced cleanly across my own forearm. I screamed and, releasing the bars, thrashed wildly at him, receiving another set of ragged cuts along my arms.

The one now holding me around the waist securely leaned his bird-like head towards me, saying in a gravelly voice, "The more you fight, the less you'll notice it." Good God! My killer was trying to give me comforting advice!

"Why don't you just let me go?" I growled.

"I do not enjoy wasting host bodies, but sparing you will simply place Terro and I in your position," he said. "But…I'll make it fast and efficient, human. It will take half a second to break your neck." His massive hand grasped my neck, squeezing softly.

"Please, don't. I don't want to… Not yet… I didn't…" My words became a senseless babble, as I squirmed and kicked in his embrace. The pads of his fingers touched along my spinal column, testing to see which would snap easily in one crushing squeeze. My father's eyes—glazed, but mirror images of my own—watched me, almost reassuring with the strange peace of death, waiting…

Tseew! There were screams and red lances of light and shouts and next thing I knew, a new set of scaly arms cradled me, my head lolling and bouncing as the powerful legs worked like pistons, running frantically. Rivulets of scarlet blood dribbled from the deep wounds, pattering against that annoyingly, frustratingly pure white floor…

----

My head lolled and bounced still even as I emerged from the nightmare, the memory drifting away mockingly, leaving its horrifying, gruesome tinge on my mind. My eyes flicked open and my mouth opened to shout, but a dirty, heavily calloused hand clapped over it. Slowly, I registered the face above mine, brows furrowed and lips pursed in worry, and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Better now? I'm amazed you didn't wake Hollow." He shook his head. "I swear she could sleep through a hurricane." Talon's usually narrowed eyes and eternal scowl broke into a relieved tiny lift of the corners of his lips, his breathing and aura as calming and rhythmic as an ocean breaking across a shore.

I withdrew my arms, remembering how Talon preferred only Hollow's contact. Hollow was currently curled up in a pile of stained and torn blankets, as comfy as a queen's bed, but far smellier and dirtier. "Yeah. I wish we could switch places at the moment."

"Hmph." That was the closest he ever got to a laugh. Talon turned his head at her, and a droplet of moisture fell from his chin onto the bridge of my nose. The slight tinge of coldness slashed away the rest of the fogginess of my mind and left it piercingly clear.

Now that the dregs of my dream had fallen away, I noticed that Talon's entire frame was soaked, his ebony skin, back leather jacket and boots, black jeans, black shirt, and fingerless gloves—also black—wet. Anyone else would've looked unkempt and pitiful, with onyx dreadlocks hanging limply, water sliding into the trenches of scars marring his face (every other area of skin, I knew, had similar markings), but the rain seemed to accentuate the muscles rolling across his chest and arms, the sharp cheekbones, the fluid grace in his every movement, achieved only by years of training and struggle.

The blood rose in my cheeks as Talon shot me an irritated glare, my emotions tangling with his aura. "You have got to stop that. Or at least keep it in check. And I'm not talking about your hormones."

I was about to respond with a sharp comment of my own, but the single door leading outside sprang inward, smashing against the wall, and letting in a splash of rain, the smell of Oriental food, and a flustered Mercury. Wearing only a short, flashy blue skirt, two-inch heels, and a dark hoodie with a hole in the elbow, my mind didn't wonder long.

Mascara running and lipstick smudged, black ringlets of hair frizzy and olive toned skin saturated, Mercury strode toward Talon and me with a well formed air of dignity, or whatever she used to replace it. Tossing the paper sack on the floor beside me, she shook herself like a dog and sneezed. "God, I hate the rain. My mother was el loco for jumping the damn border. At least Mexico was hot and dry."

"And had sweet tasting fecal matter, I mean, water," Talon said.

I ignored their bickering as it began to mount, tearing apart the bag like it was a Christmas present, and continued to do so with the white Chinese scribbled takeout boxes. Talon and Mercury had forgotten utensils again, so I simply dug my fingers into chicken chow mien and slurped it down. "Where's Vertigo?" He was the last member of our little street family.

"Off at _Illusions_ with Robert," Mercury said dismissively.

"Thought he was with Mark," I said, not the least surprised. I squirted soy sauce onto a thick clump of white rice.

Mercury shrugged. "One's got a car and the other's got a tight ass." She unclasped the top of her purse, pulling out a box of Camel and a lighter and lit them. "Hell, if Mark danced on my side of the fence, I'd have snagged him too. Fucking lucky sodomite."

"Why aren't you out there tonight?" I asked, packing up what was left of my food and shoving it in Hollow's direction.

"I ain't doing business in the middle of a flood. You should see the streets," Mercury snapped. "And it's too dark in here. Where'd you put the candles, Dem?"

"They're on your right, Mercury."

We were all perfectly adapted to seeing in relative darkness, as cities provided too many lightless alleyways and street ends for my taste, but Mercury hated it. She grabbed three stumps and lit them in quick succession, their soft, mellow glow filling the room.

Besides a thin strip of gray peeking from under the door, the candles were the only light source, as Talon and Vertigo had spray painted the windows black. Scattered across the floor were heaps of blankets and sheets, salvaged from Dumpsters and collected outside Salvation Army and Goodwill, with the occasional pile of colorful, slim fitting clothes and facial accessories, belonging to Mercury and Vertigo. Against the wall opposite the windows were stacks of books, also found from Dumpster diving and snatched from stores, my Anne Rice, Alice Borchardt, Frank Perreti, and mythology texts set aside Talon's Hawthorne, Thoreau, Melville, and Poe. A stuffed Bengal tiger and crocodile sat guarding Hollow's sketchbook clutched to the pale girl's chest.

The room was one of many in the abandoned apartment building, as our area of town had slowly been consumed and owned by the drug addicts, dealers, prostitutes, and other species of hobo. This room was pretty decent, as it protected against the elements and a falsely secure zone of safety against the weirdoes and junkies outside, and the other rooms had broken windows, leaky roofs, and rodent leavings.

In truth, if any of the wackjobs ventured inside, Talon was pretty tough on his own. I knew even now he had about a dozen or so steel knives of every size, shape, thickness, and sharpness hidden on his person. A couple messed up human beings were nothing I guess if you had already faced bladed lizards and scythe swinging centaurs and needle toothed centipedes…

But that is his story, not mine, to tell.

As for me, my name is Demeter. No, it's not my real first, middle, or last name, but then, most people abandon their birth certified names when they hit the street, either to remain safe from the law for breaking it or to stay undetected by a threatening individual or group. Mine is the latter.

However, it takes more than a name change to stay hidden from my enemies, especially since I'm afflicted with leakoderma. My dad also had it, but he doesn't need to worry about it anymore. It's a condition where certain patches of skin have a natural amount of pigment and others lack any at all. So, basically, I'm covered in squares and triangles of mouse brown and ivory puzzle pieces, which genetics also thought to add further error by giving me curly, reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. Obviously I'm not confused with any movie stars.

Right now, I had on a long-sleeved beige hoodie, dark blue jeans, sneakers, toboggan, thin scarf, and fingerless gloves like Talon. Whenever I went outside, I smeared dirt over my face; just so any confusion to my coloring could be explained away as street grime.

Yet, why go to all that precaution?

See, Earth is, no, was invaded by a parasitic species of slug called Yeerks that don't drink blood or feast in the intestines, but wrap around the brain and take control. They control every movement and word that a person speaks, rifle through a person's memories, while leaving the host's mind to scream and cry and beg in a corner, unable to control their limbs or lips or memories. The general name for them is Controllers.

I call them Screamers.

As my mind dwelled around that, the room seemed to dwindle in size and Mercury's cigarette smoke curled lazily in the air above us, coiling and shifting in shapeless spirals. The musty odor of my clothing and the perfume bathing Mercury's body seemed to battle for dominance in my nostrils. Talon and her rapid remarks to each other and the seething tide of emotions crashed around me, along with words and images kept mostly in their heads.

"You alright, Patches?" Talon asked.

I growled at the annoying nickname, instantly correcting, "Demeter."

"Yes, Goddess," he conceded mockingly.

I climbed to my feet and rubbed my temples, breathing deeply. "I need to take a walk. That stupid dream screwed with my head more than I thought it would."

Mercury raised an eyebrow. "Did it deal with you-know-who? Your blue, furry nightmare or one of Meds's stakeouts?"

"Visser Three," I said, glancing up at the ceiling, shadows playing across it like naughty sprites.

"Never met the guy, but you two have me shaking in my stilettos," she said, shivering for dramatic effect. "Then again, I doubt he can compare to Talon when someone touches his Asian flower."

"You know, I had to take out many females as well as males in my time as one of V-Three's guard," Talon said offhandedly.

"Is that a threat?" Mercury tsked. "Thought you were above hitting ladies."

"I never hit a woman of my own free will, but who said you were one?" he replied, ignoring the fact that Mercury's endowments were curvier than Hollow or I could ever hope to achieve naturally. He ducked a swing of her purse. "Either way, I'm not against sticking you out in the rain and barricading the door."

Mercury let out a squeak of disbelief and snuck behind me.

Finally roused by the chatter, Hollow let out an almost purring yawn and cocked her delicately shaped head at us. "Yummm…I smell Canton." She smirked with her almost colorless lips and almond shaped eyes, reaching greedily for the food and eating in much the same manner as I did. I smiled to myself, as Hollow's easily stirred sense of happiness washed over me, like a pleasant, warm breeze.

In the flame's now sparse light, now guttering as the stems sank into wax, Hollow appeared equally exotic, beautiful, and weird. She had been born with thin, nearly transparent skin, which left a network of blue veins visible on her arms, legs, torso, and neck. Her midnight hair was highlighted with streaks of red, green, and blue, matching her tie-dyed shirt and bandana.

"Talon, you're so sweet," Hollow said in her muffled breath. She slinked over to his side and sat down beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Always bringing home the sausage."

"Bacon," Mercury corrected.

"Same animal," Hollow said, her gaze sliding across us in turn. She gagged at the twin puffs of smoke exhaled from Mercury's nostrils. "Smelly cigarettes. Those smokes you love to inhale so much will kill you quickly. Rotten your lungs. Poison your brain."

"Hmph. I think we should put up an antismoking sign," Talon commented.

"And I think I should use that crooked mouth of yours for an ashtray," Mercury said, taking one last drag and putting the butt out in the puddle that had gathered around her feet. She started squeezing water from her skirt. "I really liked this one too. Damn rain probably ruined it."

"Don't be so upset. I _love_ the rain. The wind and water and darkness," Hollow said, grabbing her sketchbook and flicking through it. She smirked at Talon. "Reminds me of you. See?" She tapped a drawing with Talon's solemn, stormy face on it. "Anyone want to go for a walk?"

Mercury had begun sifting through a pile of skirts with all of the shades of the rainbow and each no longer than my first knuckle held against my thigh. "Have you been skipping out on your medication again? The streets are flooded and you can barely see your hand in front of your face." She held an orange-and-red miniskirt against her hips.

"Those pills just make my art look flat and lifeless." She pouted slightly, tracing her finger over picture-Talon's stern eyes. She had done pictures of all of us, including Meds and Pro Metheus. Her chaotic emotions shifted into a gloomier state, and then soared upwards once more. "Unless I gobble them all at once, but Dem starts acting funny too." She smiled. "Dem, don't you want to walk in the rain? No one'll be out there and I'll be really happy."

I laughed. Anyone who became as enthusiastic and childishly joyful as Hollow was almost a drug to me. "Tempting."

"If you're going to running out there in the muck, take these," Talon grumbled, handing each of us a strangely colored bladed knife, the shade of yellowed bone and jagged at the edges. I didn't ask about it, but merely pocketed the knife.

Hollow gripped my hand and dashed outside with the urgency of a dog chasing a cat.

Mercury hadn't been exaggerating by much. My feet kept stepping into three inch deep water on the sidewalk, as there was a steady stream coursing on the road, wind buffeted me from all sides and I could only make out the buildings and things closest to me, except during flashes of lightning, followed by booms of thunder. Normally, I would've hurried back inside, but Hollow's aura was affecting me, like caffeine and sugar, and I caught myself wanting to scale up one of the fire escapes on each building and ride out the storm closest to the clouds above. Thankfully, I kept that in check.

Hollow became electrified by the rain and thunder, twirling and skipping over the puddles, the blue of her veins almost glowing with each crack of lightning. Grinning like a mischievous imp, she kicked at one of the puddles and splattered me.

With the storm and Hollow's thoughts to occupy me, my mind was as calm as it usually was in my dreams, but recently those were under fire as well. Raindrops pattering against the pavement and wind whistling ahead of us filled my ears, allowing me to slip back into my own thoughts.

Most human beings don't know about the Yeerks, unless they've already been captured and made into slaves. I was never a Controller, or at least not long enough that it mattered. I wasn't a Controller when I began to notice their presence around me.

I had inherited leakoderma from my father, but my mother had passed down a mental talent known as "empathy". An empath is a person who can read other people's emotions and even influence them, though lately in the last year, I've begun to pick up on thoughts as well. I never really understood it, as my mother died of cardiac arrest when I was five and my father always thought psi-talents were just the works of science fiction and fantasy, rather than a science of their own. I mean, there are recorded events of pyrokinesis, telekinesis, precognition, and retrocognition, but no one puts enough effort in believing them.

It was three years ago, at the age of thirteen when I began to hear the screams. I was walking home alone as I usually did, my mind swamped with homework and other trivial matters, when I heard it: a wordless scream, full of sorrow and anger and bitterness and helplessness.

As weeks passed, I heard more and more of the Screamers, as I called them. My grades steadily dropped as I began to lose focus in school and my friends drifted away, aggravated at my aloofness and growing need of solitude. I would snap at any comment directed at me—good or bad—and if the screams got noisy and crowded enough in a single area, I would flip out and stomp away, throwing back screams of my own.

My erratic displays of behavior—as the school counselor once called them—had me expelled from school and often brought home in a police cruiser for freaking out in public. However, my dad tried to blow it off as a phase. It wasn't until my birthday, when my few family members and hard core BFF's came to support and cheer me, that he noticed something was a bit off. Right in the middle of "Happy Birthday to You", the Screamers attacked full force and I tried to rid myself of them by trying to cut my head open with a kitchen knife. My cousin Edward had to wrestle it off me and my aunt called the paramedics, as I'd sliced my forehead enough that it was pouring blood down my face.

So, at the age of fourteen, I was committed to a rehabilitation center. I stayed there for about three months, but I don't remember much except being strapped down onto a rock hard mattress like off _The Exorcist_, trays of nondescript food, and enough pills to send Hollow off the deep end. I remember enjoying the company of anorexics and bulimics and drug abusers and suicidal/homicidal patients, simply because I didn't hear my Screamers. It was only when the doctors walked into my room that the Screamers throttled me, and I desperately tried to tune them out, wondering if my sanity was already past its limits. The Screamers began to have individual voices: _Please, let me go, please… I have a family! You leave them alone filth…. Just a finger. Let me control a finger… I'll give you money, anything…_

Finally, my fifth doctor decided to suggest a youth help center that was part of a broader organization designed to help the community, people, and the environment, called the Sharing. I remained skeptical, as the man was the loudest Screamer of them all so far, but my father, his skin ashy and nearly green with long nights of worrying, his eyes sunken into wrinkled craters, leapt at the suggestion.

A week later, my mind dangerously numb with large doses of Prozac, Ritalin, and other controversial substances, my father and I walked through the entrance of a two-story complex owned by the Sharing. Almost at once my head felt as though it would explode with the concentrated amount of Screamers and I joined them, wrestling against the security guards' hold as they dragged me deeper into the place, my father tailing behind us. I snarled and punched and kicked and clawed and spat, but to no avail, as they led me into a shadowed room with a steel pool in the corner, filled with gray, sludgy liquid and small bodies that I at first thought were fish or eels, but realized were slugs.

They took my father first before he could let the situation sink in, two of the four men tackling him to the floor and dragging him to the pool, dunking his head into the water. One of the slugs crawled into his ear and he began to twitch and moan, until I heard him screaming with the security guards holding us. They released him, calmly standing as he watched his only daughter being pulled towards the bowl and having her entire head and neck plunged into the sludge.

_What are you?_

_I am a Yeerk and you are now my host, human. My name is Iril 782 and you shall serve as a means of motivation and communication for me._

_Are you what causes the screaming?_

_The…oh, yes. You can sense us, can't you? Even Visser Three has heard a word or two about you in the last few weeks. We're all very curious._

_Why?_

_Well, think about it. We could use you to sniff out the resistance and find out any military and technological secrets of the Andalites. Well, actually, I would. You are just a means to an end and your brain needs more…focus, perhaps._

I didn't understand much of what he was saying, but I could sense the loss of control over my arms and legs, the way my lips refused to obey me, even my need to breathe was given over to Iril 782. The slug sank deeper into my brain and I felt the stored notebook of my memories broken into. The Yeerk was turning me into a Screamer!

So, I did. I screamed and unleashed months of terror and fear and insanity, so strong I saw the guards and my father stagger under the blow. The Yeerk twitched and writhed in my skull, until he choose to flee and plopped back into his pool. For a microsecond, I thought my troubles were over.

Until I met Visser Three himself, a creature who seemed like a discarded character from the Grims Brothers' fairy tales. He could morph into any hideous, monstrous beast, armed with a deadly tail blade in his own form, and backed by his own guard, including Talon at the time. He gave me one cursory glance and for nine months I was put through tests and experiments, but no matter how many times I was infested, I was able to repel the Yeerks' control over me.

Which led to my would-be execution.

However, during the time I'd been held, one of the Yeerks, Irey 951, a vital part of the resistance, caught word of me. He staged my escape and sent two of the group's Hork-Bajir, as well as a newly freed Talon, to retrieve me. The Hork-Bajir had abandoned us for a separate path midway, and Talon took me to the very apartment that I now shared with him, Hollow, Mercury, and Vertigo. It was two days later I learned of the Hork-Bajir's capturing.

Talon still hasn't told me what happened to them.

On that first night, Irey 951—or Meds, as I later found out his plans—bandaged my bleeding arms and explained the situation to me. I had a hard time believing he was a Controller, but the fact that I felt two presences in his head confirmed it and he told me about the resistance, about his shared ownership of body with Richard Hendrick.

"_Why did you save me?" I asked on the third day. "You lost two—no, four—of your people in exchange for one scrawny fifteen-year-old."_

"_Most of the resistance doesn't have host bodies. I'd say the ones who do only range at thirty-five percent, so it's harder to know whether to trust new members with the limited surveillance. You could check their minds for suspicious activity, tell us if they are actually…Screamers?" Meds said._

"_Don't forget the Carrion. Some of the humans and Hork-Bajir sold out their species like the Taxxons," Talon growled. "They'll be harder to detect."_

"_What would you do with them?" I asked._

"_That's my end of the job," Talon assured. "Clean up crew." He actually grinned, a very scary expression that held only malicious intentions._

"_There is one other thing," Meds said. "One of our members—neither a Yeerk, nor a former Controller—is required to compromise with the Andalites and gain a portion of power over the Yeerks, having no prejudice against either." His strangely serene, balanced aura softened around him. "However, when he was…born, he had one disability that still needs to be cured."_

"_Disability?"_

For the last year, I've been both a spy and teacher, while Talon—and now to some extent, Mercury—have worked to silence those who don't pass inspection…

Hollow's icy, white hand grabbed mine, pulling me from my thoughts. Her milk chocolate eyes were wide, intently focused on something, and her usually erratic aura was taunt with worry and tainted with fear. She raised a finger to her lips.

For a solid minute, all I heard were the tap-dancing of rain and whoosh of gusts of wind, and had it been anyone else, I would've thought they'd imagined something in the night. Except with Hollow, for all her strange personality, she was extremely perceptive of things, whether in people or her environment. One of the reasons she'd survived the streets long before Talon met her was ability to pick up the slightest disturbances.

The Asian girl swayed like a willow tree where she stood, turning her on her heel and shifting her head at each direction. She stopped and gripped my upper arm. "A bunch of people are fighting." She turned to me. "Can you hear it, too, Dem?" She pointed to the streets ahead of us.

I shrugged and started to concentrate. Gangs often took out their wars between each other around the warehouses, mostly because the police weren't likely to be cruising near there. Running into a brawl between the Crypts and Bloods, or some other tattooed losers, wasn't big on any sane person's agenda. Lowering the shields around my mind that Meds had helped me build to keep the oncoming messages of Screamers out for the sake of my own sanity, I almost keeled over at the sudden onslaught of hostility and ferocity and adrenaline pouring into me. Definitely a fight, but…

"What is it?" Hollow asked, supporting me up with her thin skinned arms.

"Screamers. A bunch of them. Humans and Hork-Bajir," I said, wiping moisture off my forehead, a mixture of sweat and rain. "And something else. Familiar." And just as I said it, voices flooded my mind, desperate and exhausted.

(Rachel, there are two of them to your left.)

(Got it!)

(Guys, there's no way we can win this. Look at Ax and Cassie.)

(Don't be such a wimp, Marco.)

(Everyone, Marco's right. We have to separate and get out of here. There's no way we'll reach the Yeerk pool entrance now. Cassie, Marco, you two take that alleyway and demorph and remorph osprey. Tobias, watch over them. Ax, you go down that street to the left. Rachel and I will hold off anyone going your way.)

(Yes!)

(Rachel, you seriously need help. C'mon, Cassie. Tobias, keep watch.)

(Prince Jake--)

(No buts, Ax! Go!)

"That was really clear. It's a lot more silent and vague most of the time… Wait a moment!" I said. "Andalites!"

"Dem, I heard it too. Am I an empath, too?" Hollow asked. "Let's go help them."

"Hey, wait!" I shouted, but Hollow had a mission and sped off. I grumbled a few curses and headed after her.

Well, there's chappie one, yo. Oh, God, over 5,000 words. My fingers are SORE! (starts weeping) I still have College Algebra homework. Blech!

I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please R and R.


	2. Demeter2

Hmmm? No reviews? Oh well, I read that this section's a bit of a Dust Bowl right now, but feh. I'll still write!

And before you ask, Dem knows what an Andalite is because…well, didn't I explain that in the first chapter?

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Chapter Two: The Andalite 

Hollow became wraith-like, a pale, fleeting ghost of a person as she sped on ahead of me, her limbs longer and energy fueled by excitement and curiosity. I shouted again, jogging along after her, and swore, knowing it was pointless. She would pet a rapid dog if she were so inclined to, just to know the texture of its fur. Well, maybe not…but running towards a fight between Screamers and Andalites didn't fly by as sane either.

I pumped my legs until they burned despite the freezing rain that pelted me like bullets and breathed in more water than air with each breath, trying to keep Hollow in my sight. Dammit. Buildings blurred in my peripheral vision and the pounding rain became white noise, my heart beating madly and blood roaring in my temples. I really, _reall_y needed to do some of Talon's morning exercises.

Suddenly, Hollow stopped and turned back to me, waving frantically at the broken entrance of a doorway into knows who what kind of establishment and ducked inside. I swiped a hand across my forehead and followed, grabbing the edge of the doorframe and swinging inside. I felt for any presences besides our own, but the area was clear. I sighed in relief and leaned back against one wall, sliding down against it until my bum hit the floor.

"Sh! Listen, someone's coming, Dem," she whispered, her emotions vibrating with tension.

I tried to gain a better control of my breathing, quieting it, and closed my eyes—although it wasn't much darker with lids over them—trying to pinpoint any sound besides the rain, but the precipitation just seemed to swallow any other noise. However…

A rhythmic clicking-slash-clopping echoed, frantic and coming fast by the pattern of hooves striking the concrete followed by the occasional splash in-between. I waited, opening my eyes and searching for the figure those sounds belonged to. A shadow submerged in other shadows moved at the end of the road and I got to my feet, stumbling back a step, almost tripping in the lumpy, wet scattering of dry wall and broken bricks on the floor. Hollow remained vigilant, crouching down slightly, her aura trembling, but keen.

The creature finally came enough for us to see and I bit my lip as the white, curved sickle on the tip of his tail caught what little light existed here and I saw strips—green and shades of brown—hanging off the jagged edges. The Andalite was in worse condition, his humanoid upper torso and deer-like half dripping with blood, one of his eyestalks drooping, clinging by a few strands of flesh, and his left hind leg moved awkwardly compared to the other three, looking as though the tendons or whatever his species had in place of those had been severed. Even his tail appeared ready to drag itself along the ground, held up only by adrenaline and pride. Patterns of exhaustion, pain, and dimming awareness floated around him.

Despite the obvious difficulty with his leg, the Andalite cleared a puddle the length of my height in one bound, the muscles in his flanks moving with false looking ease. Along his arms and hindquarters, gray, feathery growths appeared, but as I felt him stagger and his mind go hazy, they disappeared. He stopped not far from where Hollow and I hid, and I felt his mind try to gather focus, confusion mounting as he stared at the arms that refused to change.

Tseew! Sizzling as it slashed across the rain, a lance of crimson light shot at the Andalite and my nostrils smelled the reek of burnt fur and flesh as a black circle appeared on his already ruined leg. He stumbled, almost toppling over from the pain I felt from him, but I noted that he refused to fall before his foes, as though he had already seen his fate and wanted to go standing. A pair of bloody, battered young men came into view, both armed with Dracon beams and keeping a healthy distance from the Andalite, wary of that tail.

The Andalite lifted his tail an inch or so higher, more out of bravado than any play of defense. (Are you going to kill me from afar, like the rest of your cowardly filth of a species would, Yeerks?)

"Hah! I'm not about to test that blade of yours and waste my host's body. Although, I doubt you could move it fast enough now before I pulled the trigger," one Screamer said, raising the weapon towards the Andalite's chest. I shivered, staring at the weapon's triangular shape and the red pinpoint at the tip. He chuckled. "I've set it on stun, just so you know."

(I will not be infested by scum such as you,) the Andalite snapped, but underneath the pride, I felt uncertainty and worry. (I'll take my own head before you.)

"Dem, does he mean…oh my God," Hollow whispered, closing a hand over her mouth as the realization dawned on her. "No, he can't kill himself. That's…just…"

"No, we can't get involved. He's going to die anyway, look at him! He couldn't even morph before those goons caught up to him," I hissed, grabbing a fistful of her shirt and ignoring the conflict inside my conscious. "And if one of us is captured and infested, Meds is dead and all his projects will go to waste."

Hollow glared at me. "That's cold. What if it was Meds or Odin?"

A shred of guilt stirred through me. "That's different. Meds is the only way to stop the war and for that, he needs Odin. That guy over there is probably just a cadet or whatever the Andalites call their lackeys."

She grimaced. "For someone who can sense and mess with other people's emotions, you sure are one hell of a detached bitch right now."

"Hollow…" I cringed, as though she'd smacked me across the cheek. I hated it when she became angry with me. Still, I wouldn't let her do something that would get us—and possibly Talon, Meds, and the others—killed. What I was thinking balanced out the negative karma, right? Whatever she or I did, that Andalite would still die. Right?

"Our medical unit should be able to patch up that body of yours for infestation," the Screamer considered. "Who knows? Maybe my partner or I will be the next Visser Three, or even One! How about it, Asal?"

The Andalite snorted. (Your leader doesn't like competition.)

The Screamer aimed at the Andalite's forehead. "That might be healthy for him. Besides, his host isn't going to live forever and you look young for an Andalite. Not too much tan fur."

"Smelly fuckers." Hollow shook her head wildly, red and green strands slapping my shoulder. "Screw this. I'm not going to watch someone get dragged helplessly into sluggy mind control." She crouched down and picked up a chunk of brick, aiming it at the mouthy Screamer's head. She chucked it and it slammed less satisfyingly, but still nicely, against the man's back.

As Hollow ducked to get more ammo, his partner swung his gaze at the doorway and, in a passing streak of lightning, caught sight of me. Tseew! I yelped and tackled Hollow, pushing both of us away from the opening as wet wood boiled and bricks crumbled into powder above us. I sneezed and rubbed dust from my eyes, trying to regain my footing as I saw the silent man dash toward our hiding hole.

"Take this, you jerk!" Hollow tossed a mug-sized brick at the man, but he dodged and it glanced off his shoulder. She took up a slab of wet dry wall and it collided like mud on the man's stomach. I froze up, trying to command my muscles to move, but all my attention wanted to focus on was the Dracon beam's glaring red dot.

"More Andalites?" the Screamer asked, swinging his weapon towards Hollow, then me, and then Hollow again. "Or just a pair of dirt homeless humans? Doesn't matter. You're still a waste of my Dracon beam's energy, but can't leave any witnesses." I closed my eyes as I heard the click of the Dracon beam's power resetting, imagining myself somewhere else in those last moments… At home with my dad, in the apartment with Talon and Mercury and Hollow and vertigo, teaching Odin and feeling Meds's respect…

I grinded my teeth, reaching for the knife in my pocket, as though it would do much against a Dracon beam…

FWAPP! A loud thud interrupted my thoughts and I thought of the rolling head in my memory and dream, whimpering softly. No… Hollow's reassuring touch brought me out of those thoughts, her hand yanking at my elbow. I peeked my eyes open, relieved that the Screamer's head remained intact on his shoulders and not surprised to see the Andalite, his upper torso and forelegs leaning against the doorframe.

"Thank you," Hollow said, and then cried out as the Andalite lurched forward, collapsing onto the uneven floor, like a building whose foundations had crumbled away. She hovered a foot or so away from him and I sidled up beside her, not feeling any more hostile impressions from the Andalite. That could have been in part that he was busy trying to stay awake and alert, failing to stay either for much longer.

(I have to find Prince Jake… I can't be captured…) he kept murmuring, his "voice" foggier by the moment. (Why can't I…morph?)

"Probably cause you're trying to just focus on staying awake," I replied, and he appeared surprised that I had done so.

Hollow came forwards and grasped the guy's narrow shoulder, trying to drag him back onto his hooves. "Come on. Your buddies' friends are probably going to come and search for them. I don't want to see anymore laser guns tonight. How about you, Dem?" She ushered me over to the alien's other side.

(Who are you?) he asked, turning his undamaged eyestalk on us, his main eyes staring dumbly at the floor.

"I'm Hollow and that's Demeter. We just saved your furry hindends, so don't die on us, okay?" she asked, nudging him slightly. "If you live, I'll make you a portrait and Dem will read your future."

"I'm not a psychic," I chided. "I don't think he's listening, Hollow."

The Andalite glanced at me, a shred of humor in his aura. (I'm blind in one eyestalk, not deaf in one ear.)

"Oh, sorry," I said. I grabbed one of his many-fingered hands, each digit feeling as soft and fragile as a kitten's spine. "Well, let's get going. Hollow's right. They'll probably send back up if they don't get any messages from those guys you just KO'd. Can you walk?"

The Andalite nodded, a gesture that seemed odd for him, but I didn't question it. He stood unsteadily, blood staining my thigh when he accidentally slipped against me, and I felt the silent throb of pain from his hind hoof as it touched the floor. I reached around his torso and Hollow walked beside the ravaged leg.

"You sure you can? I could leave you here with Dem and be back with some help in no time," Hollow suggested.

The Andalite shook his head. (I've suffered worst wounds.)

"Amazing you can still shuffle about then," Hollow said. "Hey, wait, what's your name? I told you ours and I don't think you want me to call you 'blue pony-boy'."

The Andalite paused to consider, then relented, (Aximili.)

I fought back a shivering tremor as we stepped back into the rain, my hoodie and pants still soaked, and hoped I didn't get sick along the way. Hollow, of course, loved the rain, but most of her thoughts were focused on Aximili. Despite his wounds and probably to gain back a tidbit of dignity in his situation, he gently shook off my hold and broke into a canter, with Hollow and I jogging on either side. My head was beginning to ache from all the agony he suppressed with each stride.

"Anyone following us?" Hollow asked.

Aximili turned an eyestalk backwards. (No, but then again, the weather conditions could be hiding any pursuers. They could be only twenty yards away.)

I took down my mental shields, almost gasping at the barrage of Hollow's tsunami troublesome emotions and Aximili's troubles, almost as though my own calves and heels had been shredded. Trying to ignore these, I reached out, sampling for other minds besides the cold, hungry and sleepy ones I felt in the hollowed structures and back alleyways. Fellow homeless people were the least of our troubles; though I was glad most were too groggy and disoriented to notice a couple kids and an alien running in the streets.

There! I counted three different screaming voices, along with the cool-minded, furious thoughts of their body snatchers. They were still a good way off, near the two unconscious men Aximili had taken out. I poked as far as I could at one of the men, glimpsing a flash of darkened blue stains on a doorway and footprints in a mess of mud like dry wall.

I retracted my hold ad closed my mind as far as I could, grinding my teeth as I shut out the emotions and thoughts I felt everywhere. "Three of them. They found their pals and they're now trying to find any clue of Aximili's whereabouts. I think…I think they also saw our footprints."

"Well, then he morphed a human," Hollow supplied.

"One guy turned into two humans?" I asked.

Hollow shrugged, and then seemed to notice the confusion and curiosity from Aximili when he halted to stare at me. "Dem can feel things, Ax. Just trust her. I do, and it's saved my butt a couple times."

(I believe I'll save my questions for later,) Aximili said.

"Good. Now let's get the heck out of here," Hollow said. "Keep us updated, Dem."

I reluctantly loosened my shields again and kept a distant vigil on Aximili's trackers, but by the time they caught his trail—by the power of guessing, as the rain had washed away our tracks—we had already covered half the distance to the apartment. My lungs were coarse as sandpaper and Aximili had begun to rely more and more on Hollow's and my support as I practically ripped the door off its hinges in our urgency and ducked inside, having a hell of a time trying to half-drag, half-carry an alien that had to be twice my weight up the stairs.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or dismayed that Talon and Mercury weren't here. As much as they disliked the rain, staying in one area for longer than an hour for reasons other than sleep didn't appeal to either of them. Which was good, I guess. Talon would've had a fit if he saw a random alien pulled inside and I seriously didn't need a bigger headache than I already had.

Aximili gave one last shudder as he gave the room a glance and toppled over onto his side, graciously not on his wounded hindleg.

Hollow gave a muffled a shriek. "Oh, God! Jesus, he's not dead, is he?"

"No." The Andalite's chest and sides expanded and fell with shallow breath, a puddle of blue blood and water gathering around him. I frowned, walking hesitantly to his side and, picking up a tattered, not-exactly-sanitary sheet, wiped some patches of fur, trying to find all the serious cuts and burns. There were quite a few, especially on his flanks, ribs, a large gash across his back and obviously a couple on his bad leg. "Come over here. We need to clean these up."

Hollow grabbed a cleaner sheet and, wrinkling her nose against the metallic, salty smell, started wiping off his tail, throwing a couple glances at the blade. I took out the bone-colored blade and started slashing more fabric into thick, long bands. I started tying them around his cuts, while simply sticking others like paper maché onto his back and ribs. All through this, Aximili didn't move besides breathe, limp and heavy.

"I think we need Meds," Hollow said after a few minutes, speaking what I'd been thinking all the while. "He feels…like a doll. Almost not real, not living. His chest should be moving higher, shouldn't it?"

"Yeah." I sat back and surveyed our work. The Andalite looked almost like a mummy with our shoddy work. I took off my hoodie, which was starting to freeze me into a human icicle and fetched another off the floor, shaking dust off it, wishing I could do the same for the musty stench. "I'll go get him."

"You sure? I know where the place is too," Hollow said. "The rain doesn't bother me, and I miss Pro. He's more fun to sketch than even you or Talon."

"No. I'll do it." Even unconsciousness, I could feel the needles of pain disturbing the Andalite's mind and needed to get out of there, even if it meant going back into the cold rain. Besides, the look on Meds's face when he heard about this would be priceless. I changed my hat as well, squeezing water from my thick hair and dove back outside.

----

My chest was practically on fire and I tipped my head my head back, drinking in a gulp of rain, which had finally begun to relent, slowly shifting into a drizzle. I glanced around, wondering how much time had passed since I'd left Hollow with the alien. An hour? Two? I was ready to retch from exhaustion, my legs ready to fail on me, as I'd spent much of that time running and jogging in between. Maybe I should have let Hollow go…

But I was here, in the middle of the suburbs, one of the places I usually avoided except with my meetings with Meds. Unlike the city, people in these areas had the same expectations of other human beings as they did of their houses: to all have a similar appearance and posture. Well, maybe not that, but a girl with patchwork skin would stand out and I always had a fear of some Screamer glancing at me and thinking, _Hey, she looks familiar. Haven't I seen her before? _Even though Meds had erased most of my files from the Yeerk database, but still…

Maybe I also had hypochondria along with empathy…

Like I said though, everything looked the same to me, the houses all varying shades of pastel paints and decorated with miniature gardens and bushes and trees, each with a front porch and garage half the houses' sizes. I glanced at the numbers on the mailboxes until I found the correct one and recognized the odd muddy green color of Meds's home. Nothing besides a weed problem made his yard stand out and his car was safely tucked away in the garage.

I ran up to the front door and rapped my knuckles against it hard enough I wondered if the neighbors could hear me despite the weather. I felt intently for any conscious minds, but all I could sense was peaceful slumbering, of which a thread of jealously tugged at me. "HEY! MEDS! PRO! WAKE UP! LET ME IN! I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU! YOOHOO!" With this I pounded more fiercely against the door and sent out a couple furious ripples against the sleepy moods.

I heard footsteps pounding down the steps and the click of the lock. A sleep-rough voice grumbled, "Demeter, I am have tempted to step outside and slice you into human sushi, even if someone happened to spot me in this stupid weather. Give me one good reason not to do so. Why would you come out here anyway?"

"Like I said, I have something to show Meds. Get him up, Pro," I said. "You know, threats make you appear less intelligent. Meds's work has gone down the drain in your case."

A jaw-cracking yawn answered me. "Tell me what you found. Another stray cat with flu? Some dog with a crooked tail? It could have waited till morning and you could've called."

"Alright, I'll wait. It's just an Andalite with a couple cuts and bruises. I already told Hollow he wouldn't live till morning anyway. Sorry to bother you. Go back to sleep, Pro Metheus. I know how much you need your beauty sleep," I said.

"WHAT?" The door opened and Pro dragged me in by one of his reptilian claws.

"I know. That's what I thought to," I said. "And I'm not kidding about the whole not living-till-morning thing. I think his medical condition is fucked up."

The Hork-Bajir sighed. "You're too sarcastic for even a human. Come on. Meds is still upstairs."


	3. Aximili

First, a response to my only reviewer so far:

**Mind the Green Bits**:_The reasons for the odd names—Demeter, Hollow, Pro Metheus, etc.—instead of their actual birth names are: one, in every book I've read about the street life (ex: Can't Get There From Here; Candy; Valiant) most of the characters give themselves new names, for reasons similar to what Demeter said, or just to strike up a new identity; two, in the Animorphs books, they always start off with something like "I can't tell you my real name" and I sort of took that a step farther; three, I love symbolism almost as much as description and most of the OCs names have something symbolic about them (ex: Talon has the gaze of a raptor and he'll appear fiercer later on)._

_Thanks for reviewing. I've had nine other hits for the second chapter but no one else had the decency to cheer or flame me. I'm going to try and post a chapter every one or two weeks, mostly to take my mind off the PSSAs and SAT and driving test. Ugh._

Now, this next one is in Ax's POV. To explain why Ax pretty much just went with them: one, they saved him; two, ever give blood? I gave one pint last year and I couldn't think straight for two hours.

------

**Chapter Three: Irey's Plan**

Memories jumbled together in a kaleidoscope of images and sounds, which I blamed on blood loss and sheer exhaustion, but I wasn't about to voice my complaints. However, embarrassment flooded me as I realized in a moment of clear thinking that without the help of the two humans currently assisting me ascend _three_ measly stairs, those Controllers would've easily taken me captive. At that very moment, instead of reaching what I hoped was temporary shelter, the Yeerks could have been holding my head down in a sludgy pool, losing my free will and betraying the Animorphs. I shuddered at the thought.

Yet, why had I trusted these humans? I wasn't entirely sure, except for the idea of a Yeerk trap was pointless, as they had already cornered me before the blue-veined, pale girl distracted them and allowed me to dispatch them. And there was something odd about the puzzle-patterned one, which the other affirmed when she said that her companion could "feel" things.

I walked as far inside the room as I could, ignoring the crippled condition of my hind leg, blindness in one eyestalk, and the wounds covering me like Prince Jake's tiger stripes. My legs buckled beneath me and I sank into the dark void of unconsciousness.

----

Yesterday, I waited patiently in Cassie's barn with Prince Jake, Tobias, Marco, Rachel, and Cassie as Erek the Chee updated us on the Yeerks' activities. Rather then be in his chrome-and-ivory, canine shape, the Chee had remained hidden in his holographic form as he discussed the news. Cassie had continued to busy herself with the animals' welfare and Rachel had one of those colorful, weekly-distributed books called magazines in her lap, but both had their full attention on the android. Marco sat on one of the hay bales and Prince Jake stood beside a horse's stall, sharing a grim expression. Tobias and I remained silent through most of it.

After all, the news was interesting to say the least.

Marco held up his hands and shook them from side-to-side, indicator for notice. "Whoa, wait, hold up. The Yeerk resistance plans to assassinate Visser Three? I'm ready to congratulate them as much as the rest of you, but why now? Especially since Estrid and the others failed to do so a few months ago and he'd have hyped up security if I were him."

"They'll just replace him with another Yeerk, possibly one that's more intelligent or even bolder towards the infestation of Earth," Cassie agreed. She scooped up a handful of pellets and tossed them into a goose's pen. "It won't be one of the resistance, we know that for sure. None of them are high ranking enough."

"I understand that, just as many of the resistance do. Ever since Aftran 942, the former leader and founder of the group as you all know, abandoned her position, they've changed tactics in the last year," Erek said.

"She couldn't exactly help it. It was either that or throw her back into Visser Three's interrogation," Cassie said, sliding a glance my way. Usually, none of the Animorphs brought up Aftran's name in front of me, as I didn't wish to dwell on those moments I'd been a Controller. I understood Cassie's reasoning, but the memory filled me with disgust and often haunted my sleep if I thought too much of it.

"So, wait, who's their new leader?" Rachel asked. "Do we know him?"

"There isn't a clear cut leadership position, but one of them has been moving upwards in the Yeerk's resistance ranks in the past year. He is a close cousin of Aftran and, from what I've gathered, a highly respected medical and genetics professor. He has studied the few files the Yeerks' didn't destroy in their extermination of the Arn and knows just about everything about Yeerk, Hork-Bajir, Taxxon, human, and even Andalite anatomy and biology," Erek said.

(Okay,) Tobias said. (So he's the big cheese in medicine.)

Erek's falsely bright, human eyes smirked, his illusionary lips peeling back into a grin. "Perhaps. He found a vaccine for the virus the Andalites designed to annihilate the Hork-Bajir."

I started chuckling, until my human friends stared quizzically at me. (What? I believe Erek used your form of humor called exaggeration. Obviously, I doubt a _Yeerk_ could find a cure for a virus meant to attack a specific set of DNA and break down its molecular structure.)

The android shrugged. "Apparently he did. His name is Irey 952 and, since he's one of only five Yeerks that studied Andalite sicknesses and medicines, he's Visser Three's personal doctor."

"Oh, the joy of irony. What does he plan to do? Have one of his assistants inject him with MRSA or AIDS in the middle of a physical?" Marco asked.

"That's the thing. Not too many people know. None of the Chee found anyone hired to do the assassination. In fact, Irey has been telling everyone to stay in Visser Three's blind spot and don't make any major moves against him," Erek said, scratching his hair.

"That's not much to go on. What does Irey plan to do about anyone taking Visser Three's place?" Prince Jake asked. "He can't set up another attack on a new visser without being captured and I don't think he'd escape suspicions if Visser Three died or not in the first place."

(Is he hoping to attain the status for himself?) I asked.

"No," Erek said flatly. "I think it would be best if you came in contact with him soon, though. His host body is Richard Hendrick."

(Anything else for this evening?) Tobias asked, even though we couldn't think of any else the Chee could have to tell us.

"Unfortunately," Erek said. "One of the Yeerk resistance didn't take heed of his words and decided to take out one of Visser Three's advisors last night. His host committed suicide so she couldn't be reinfested for information, but Visser Three plans to do much the same with the Yeerk as he tried with Aftran."

Cassie sighed. Prince Jake sighed, and said, "As if we didn't have enough to worry about, we have a renegade Yeerk to save." He sighed again. "When is he going to do this?"

"Tomorrow," Erek informed.

Marco groaned. "Looks like I'm missing the Reno 911 marathon. Oh, and there's a new episode of South Park afterwards. This saving the world business is starting to infringe on my schedule."

"Shut up, Marco," Rachel said. "We don't need to know about your personal life."

Erek shook his head. "Don't shoot the messenger, Marco."

"Anyone seen a new Yeerk pool entrance lately?" Prince Jake asked, directing his attention to Tobias.

(There's one outside a Home Depot I found last week--) Tobias said.

"Actually, the closest entrance to the relative area where the Yeerk is located is by some storage facilities in the city adjacent to us," Erek said. "The Yeerks use a restroom stall and key in a code behind the mirror above the sink. One of the Chee changed the code for you so you could easily get in. It's—"

"Six?" Marco asked.

Erek blinked in astonishment. "How'd you know?"

----

The circumstances—or, according to Marco's deities, the Irony Gods and Lady Luck—weren't in our favor, and after I typed in the one-digit code—which I _knew_ the Chee had been foolish to change—Hork-Bajir and human-Controllers had flooded the crate-filled warehouse, having hidden in buildings surrounding it. The others had been in battle morphs and I had my own deadly tail blade, but the Yeerks overwhelmed us in sheer quantity. Before three minutes had passed, one of the Hork-Bajir had sliced through the tendons and muscles in my hind leg and another had nearly severed my eyestalk. Prince Jake had called a retreat and…and I…

"Meds! Pro! You're here!" the girl called Hollow said in her high, almost child-like voice. "I've been keeping pressure on the cuts and they've started to scab over."

"How did you two find an _Andalite _in the rain?" the rough, raspy voice of a Hork-Bajir asked. My mind was only semi-conscious, but I tried to send a command to my tail. Had I been wrong? Was it a trap?

Someone grabbed my…neck? Wrist? "The pulse has quickened almost twice the normal rate, but that's understandable. Pro, open up a couple containers of MP4 and an IV. I'll set the leg, but you mentioned that he could morph, Demeter. That and his eye should be all right…No! The blue containers, not the green."

(A/N 1: MP4 is an artificial blood, thicker and able to carry and supply more oxygen than the real stuff. I was being lazy, so I didn't invent a name for a Yeerk version, but seeing as Ax constantly says, "The Yeerks stole all their 'technology' from the Andalites," I figured that may as well apply to human medical terms. Any who, back to the story.)

"Sheesh! Calm down, he isn't dead yet," the Hork-Bajir snapped.

"He will be if you keep dawdling!" the human replied. "Demeter, hand me that."

"A needle?" the husky, dry toned voice asked. "What are you going to prick him with?"

"Losing a pint or two of blood won't leave you as the most clear-headed individual," the human said. "It's a sedative. I like Richard's head just where it is."

I felt a tiny stab, not really acknowledgeable much with the cuts and my mind had already began settling back into full sleep…

-----

Disorientation clouded my mind as I finally slipped completely from unconsciousness, blinking open three eyes to peer around me, but the room was submerged in near absolute darkness, except for a golden sliver underneath a door. I could hear two sets of breathing…oh, the girls. What were their names again? Demeter and Hollow.

Squinting my eyes to catch any possible light, I felt the area around me. Something heavy and thick covered most of my body except for a foot of tail and my head, and something pressed against my back. I stretched my legs hesitantly, and almost swore when my hind leg refused to budge, strapped in a stiff position. In fact, a bunch of scratchy, tight material covered me from neck to tail tip.

Not for long. I focused on my stallion morph, simply for something quick and similar to my body structure to heal all my injuries. Numbness crept over my limbs and tail and torso, as my arms and tail dwindled in size, becoming almost semi liquid as they slipped inside me and into nothingness. The muscles in my legs thickened and lost their graceful structure, becoming clumsier and my hooves lost most of their feeling and hardened. As my body grew in size, the scratchy material snapped and fell away, followed by the covering on my leg as it repaired itself. As my eyestalks disappeared into my skull, the segment of spine that connected my upper torso to my equine structure cracked with the same volume and sound of a primitive gunshot.

The weight against my back stirred. "What the…?"

The cuts covering me sealed together, the dried blood breaking into flakes, and I reversed the morphing process, my hybrid body of horse-and-Andalite quickly changing back into my entirely Andalite one. A figure shuffled in the dense darkness and I kept my main eyes on it as it scrambled in search of something. My spine made a loud, grinding noise as it molded back into place, and the figure picked up a tiny object and clicked it.

A flame flickered and its scanty light dispersed throughout the room, dancing along the angular features of Hollow's face. She blinked for several seconds before crouching down on the floor and lighting a couple candles, the delicious scents of cinnamon and brown sugar condensing quickly in the air. (A/N: Couldn't help it. Hehe.)

It was good I'd decided to return to my own body. Even in a horse morph, the smell of anything resembling cinnamon buns could be distracting, as mouths _are_ meant for use in consumption.

My newly restored eyestalk twitched at movement behind me and saw the other human female, Demeter, wipe at her eyes and, noticing my stare, grin at an embellished degree and scramble away from me. The other one, meanwhile, did a couple erratic movements that I guess would be considered dancing, turning on her heel a few times, and jabbing a finger at me.

"Demmm, loook! He is alive! And look! No more cuts and his eye's working! Meds's really a miracle worker," Hollow exclaimed. She skipped over to me and before I could object, grabbed my left arm, trying to haul me to my hooves. "Come on! Aren't you happy? And relieved? You didn't die and I can make your portrait."

Demeter chuckled, the pale splotches of skin dotting her face turning pink. "Keep doing that and you'll yank his arm clean out of the socket." She smirked at me. "Don't play mute. You already told us your name, Aximili, and a thank you is in order."

(Thank you,) I said simply. I shook off the black blanket they'd thrown over me apparently and stood, tentatively touching the floor with my hind hoof, satisfied the morphing had accelerated and completed the healing process. (Where am I, exactly?)

"You're in the city, same place you stumbled into last night. Sorry, I never memorize street names, just what everything looks like. If it helps, there's a private school and museum a few blocks away from this district." Demeter shrugged. "Hey, are you thirsty? Meds pumped you full of blood, but you guys aren't vampiric."

Before I answered, Hollow took the slightest movement as a request, a glint in her eyes, and left the room, not through the door leading outside, but into a crumbling hallway that brought in clouds of dust and a smell of age and abandonment. I swung my gaze back on Demeter, who leaned back against a wall. Near the dusty, dirt scattered floor at her feet I noticed a clawed footprint.

I remembered the voices from last night and my fur bristled slightly on my shoulders and spine, suspicions rising. A troubled look flickered across Demeter's face. (I assume most of your species would be either frightened or overly excited at seeing one of my kind. However, neither of you appeared surprised at my presence and you don't stutter when you say my name.)

"Huh? Well, I don't have a speech impediment," she answered. "You were hurt and we—well, mostly Hollow—decided to help you. Don't you believe in the power of humanitarian Trekkies?"

(I'm not human,) I said flatly. (And I suspect, neither are you, Yeerk.)

"Dude, I'm not a Screamer, er, Controller," Demeter replied, aggravation written over her face and, for some reason, I was beginning to feel much the same. She grinded her teeth and rubbed her forehead. "Dammit, you aliens are hardheaded. Two well meaning individuals risked their lives to save one broody Andalite and he starts flipping out."

(If you are human, how do you know what I am? And why are there Hork-Bajir tracks on the floor?) I asked, raising an eyestalk, a habit I'd picked up from watching the Animorphs do so with eyebrows.

"Because you ungrateful, blue jackass, I had to go, and get help since you were bleeding all over the floor and we didn't have any blood bags on hand," Demeter said, her brow wrinkled. "Sorry about Meds sticking you with sedatives, though. I knew you were awake, but he would've launched into an interrogation or whatever about the Andalite Bandits. You were too out of it for that to be fair."

She'd known I was awake? How, when I had barely noticed it myself? (You still didn't answer my first question,) I pointed out.

"Oh, right. Well…wait, I should be asking you the questions," Demeter said. "Like, are you a high-level military officer? Where were the other Bandits when you were fucking totaled?"

(Possibly. Somewhere,) I told her.

"That's not an answer!" She locked her eyes on mine, but Marco and Tobias had said it wasn't possible to win a staring contest with an Andalite. "Fine, then. My, eh, employer's a Yeerk. He's the one who patched you up last night. So, in reality, you should be thanking Meds."

(Meds?)

Artificial hooves scuffed against wood and Hollow reappeared, shaking gray particles and wispy cobwebs from her hair, carrying a basin with water sloshing inside. "Good thing it rained last night. The manager shut off the water and electricity before he left. Bummer." She set the bowl down and reached into her pocket, pulling out an orange container with a white top. She tapped two white tablets into her palm, popped them into her mouth, and slurped some water. "Blech. Taste like grit and sand."

"I thought you didn't want to take them," Demeter said.

"Yeah, but Mercury and Talon start bickering about my behavior and Talon frowns enough as it is." She turned her lips downwards, narrowing her eyes in a haunting manner. "You two don't seem to be getting along. I could hear you bickering from upstairs. Play nice."

(How does a human become involved with a Yeerk without loosing their freedom?)

"Fate was throwing curveballs my way," Demeter snapped.

I scowled. (I would prefer a logical answer.)

"Well, let's just say I have certain talents he's interested in." This time she appeared smug. "Such as the fact that I can't be controlled. So there." She stuck her tongue at me. "Though, with the way things happened, I still blame Moirai."

(A/N 2: Moiria predates the sisters Koltho, Lakhesis, and Atropos in early Greek mythology as the goddess of Fate.)

I recalled how Hollow had asked Demeter to survey the area around us in watch of more Controllers—or Screamers, as she called them. (Do you mean how Hollow explained that you could "feel things"?)

"I'm right here, you know," Hollow said exasperatedly, waving a hand in our faces. She cleared her throat. "Trust us, suspect us, I don't care, but Meds said before he left that you need to rehydrate. Same with you, Dem."

"What? Why? He didn't say that!"

"No, but survey says you need eight glasses of water a day." Hollow shrugged. "Besides, we met one of the Andalite Bandits and he met part of the resistance. I'd say we celebrate with an actual good drink, but Talon doesn't trust you or me around alcohol, so we'll settle on rain water." Demeter rolled her eyes, but complied, taking a sip from it. Hollow glanced at me. "Hey! I didn't poison or drug it, Ax. Dem and I drank, and we're still alive and kicking." To demonstrate, she kicked her right leg high over her head.

(Okay…) I didn't see why the girl spoke so vehemently about it, but I also complied, dipping a forehoof into the basin, offhandedly wondering whether I'd be able to make up for missing the morning ritual later that day. Besides, my forelegs _had_ started to cramp from thirst.

Hollow clapped her hands. "See? Now we're comrades."

Demeter shook her head. "You didn't swap your pills with placeboes again, did you?"

"Nope," Hollow assured. "Now, how about you help Meddie out. He's been dying to see an Andalite, since Dem hasn't made much progress with his experiments. No offense, Dem."

(Experiments?)

Demeter groaned. "Why does everything you say have to be a question, Aximili? Seriously, you put Meds to shame when it comes to annoyance levels."

I blinked. (You continue to use that appellation, but "Meds" is a not a Yeerk family name I am familiar with.)

Hollow giggled. "That's his street name, Ax. His actual name is Irey 951, but it's so lateral sounding and doesn't suit a doctor."

I forced myself not to stiffen and keep my tail from twitching in surprise. They knew the Yeerk that had recently risen to leadership status in the resistance, while the Chee with all their technological and spying advantages couldn't gain any information on the person? I'd always had less flattering opinions about the Pemalites and their naïve ignorance, but this, from another human cliché I'd picked up, takes the cake.

I wanted to be inconspicuous about how I approached this, because the Animorphs needed more information about Irey 951. We needed to know why the resistance, with its few hosted members and usually pacifist attitude, had suddenly turned aggressive and how Irey 951 planned to handle the visser's assassination. Despite the fact that I'd sworn to exterminate my brother's murderer, we at least knew how to handle him and his tactics, and another Visser in his place could lead to the downfall of the Animorphs' efforts.

Demeter's eyes seemed to glaze over and her brow wrinkled, reminding me that I knew nothing of this strange human's abilities. I shoved my thoughts aside, locking them away as Hollow glanced between the two of us again and threw back her head.

"So, Ax, would you help Meds?" Hollow asked.

(Perhaps. The Andalite Bandits have done business with the resistance in the past,) I said.

"Good," she chirped. "Hungry?"

I glanced at each of them, noticing for the first time how prominent their collarbones and chins were. Not shockingly so, but also not covered in a healthy amount of flesh in my opinion. Also, the naturally fatty areas on a human female, the breasts and buttocks, were little more than tiny curves underneath artificial skins. I doubted whether they had anything to offer, for surely in their condition they would've eaten it by now.

"You spend way too much time thinking to yourself," Hollow grumbled. "Well? I'm starving. How about you, Dem?" Demeter nodded slightly and once again, Hollow headed straight form the room.

(She must enjoy making errands,) I observed.

"Too bad she doesn't have any cash and she couldn't thrift a gumball from a Dollar General," Demeter said. "I'll go see if I can beg up enough bucks to buy a bag of lawn clippings for you, since you eat grass, right?"

I grabbed her forearm as she walked past me. (I'll go with you.)

"Hah! You still don't trust us! What a rip-off." Demeter raised an eyebrow until it nearly disappeared under tangled, copper hair. "No offense, but I get enough passing stares with my skin without a blue, centaur chaperone. Not that there's anything wrong with being an alien."

(Just give me two of your minutes.)

"_My_ minutes?" she asked.

Without explanation of my comment—why couldn't humans seem to understand that my homeworld's time zone was different than Earth?—I focused on my human form, a concoction of Prince Jake, Cassie, Marco, and Rachel. All four hooves sprouted identical human toes, even as my forelegs retreated into my abdomen, and my fingers decreased in number. My knees cracked and readjusted themselves forward, and my arms swelled with larger muscles. My fur receded into my flesh and the fuzz on top of my skull grew into dark, straight locks.

In the middle of the process, even though I'd done this very morph dozens of times, I felt an unexpected sense of giddy wonder and enjoyment, as though this change was my first. A mouth peeled open in the bottom third of my face and my human instincts spread it into a smile.

Demeter herself had a smile plastered to her oddly marked face. "That is one of the most disgusting, disturbing, and beautiful things a person should ever have to see." She tapped her lip, her eyes trailing over me for some reason. "You have good taste. The other guy always changed into something horrible and fanged and ugly."

"Arrrre you ew talking about Visser eer Three?" I asked.

Demeter snorted. "And you had the nerve to question my ability to pronounce your name?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, that douche bag. His method of being persuasive was turning into a Godzilla rip-off beast and showing everyone his pearly teeth. Do you have any cool alien morphs?"

"Some." Which amounted to one or two I'd done while training in the military. "Speaking is entertaining. Tain-ing."

"Huh. Demeter. Dem-eat-her." Demeter ran her tongue over her teeth. "Whatever you say." She went over to a pile of mismatched artificial skins, pulling out a pair of black denim jeans and an ebony shirt with "Cannibals Know How to Dine" on it. Why humans would want to dine on each other was beyond me. "Put these on. You can't wander around in your boxers."

I slipped on the leg coverings easily enough, but no matter how many times I'd adorned chest coverings before, I still had some difficulty adjusting the shirt. Demeter laughed and assisted me, brushing dust off the sides.

She picked up a pair of tattered artificial hooves hidden in the pile and snorted. "I'm not even going to bother. Lift your foot. Okay! Never mind, Mr. Uncoordinated! Sit down and stick out your feet." She shoved the shoes on my feet and laced them in the needlessly intricate knots humans were obsessed with.

She gripped my hand and pulled me to my feet, starting for the door. Once again I grabbed her arm. "I was ous wondering… Why do you call Controllers olleers Screamers?"

Her eyes sparked. "I can tell who is and who isn't a Controller."

"How?"

"It's the reason they couldn't make me one," Dem said. "Ax, you know how you're able to project your thoughts to someone else? Like telepathy."

I nodded.

"Well, there are humans with a higher perception on the mental scale than others. I'm not talking about intelligence, but the psyche itself," Demeter explained. "ESP is the general term for it. Some have telepathy, but they don't speak thoughts, rather they can gather those from people around them. You could be clairvoyant, when you know when something's just happened somewhere, without any physical indication around you. There's precognition, knowing about the future, and retrocognition, knowing about the past."

"And end you have ave one of those," I said smoothly, keeping my expression straight. Could she do that? I hadn't any idea humans could possess skills similar to the telepathic Leeran. Could she read my mind, get all the information about the Animorphs? Or know about my past, or where I would report to Prince Jake in the future? My mind started spiraling around the possibilities, like a speeding Andalite fighter with one of the engines blown off. Had she saved me merely to reap that knowledge? Had the resistance switched sides to an extent, loyal to neither their own people nor those fighting for the freedom of other races? Had I mistakenly betrayed my prince?

But, if so, why hadn't they simply infested me in the first place? And why would Demeter tell me all this now?

"Stop it, Aximili!" Demeter shrieked, clapping her hands over her head and kneeling over. "Calm down, would you? I'm not turning you into anyone's authority. Let me clear my head for a sec, all right?"

I sighed, inhaling the rich aroma of cinnamon to stop my racing thoughts and Demeter appeared to be released from whatever trauma had befallen her. She gulped down air, wiping a drop of sweat from her forehead and closed her eyes.

"No, I can't do anything like that, or if I can, it's of minimal value," Demter said. "I can, um, feel another person's emotions and to some extent, if I focus hard enough, influence them. It's called empathy." She licked her lip. "I can hear the screaming infested people make under a Yeerk's control."

Once more I nodded.

"And, yeah, Hollow was right. Meds wants the Andalite Bandits' help in his plans," Demeter said. "I don't mean to scoff at you guys, but the war on Earth has continued on even with your interference with Visser Three's actions. Meds knows a way to stop the war itself, but to cement it, he admitted that you guys could come in handy." She massaged her forehead. "And, if you guys try to take advantage of him, _I'll know_."

"I see ee," I said.

She nodded. "Your aura let out a bunch of flashing red signs when Hollow mentioned his actual name. Don't deny it. And…well, I need to talk with the others." She stepped outside the apartment into the very bright light of day, beckoning me with her gaze and, I now realized, her mind to follow.

How else would I find out about this "Meds"? I obliged, taking a moment to snuff out the candles and headed up behind her.


	4. Demeter3

_Mind the Green Bits__: We actually had a blood drive a couple days ago at school. If you ever try it, here's some tips: 1) bring lots of beef jerky (iron, ya know?); 2) when the guy is about to stick a needle in your elbow and asks if you're all right, DON'T be an idiot like me and joke, "Don't worry. My friends and I do this all the time."; 3) college algebra teachers are immune to your pleas of light headedness and don't find it cute when you collapse at your desk._

A/N: I based Illusions off an actual club my friend goes to when he's down and needs a new guy. I don't think they ever turn…ack…off the…cough, ack, cough…fog machines.

A/N: I didn't realize till now that Mercury's name came from mythology (only Demeter, Odin, and Pro Metheus's names were supposed to). Her name was based on the element, since she sort of drives people like Talon mad at times (look up "Mad Hatter" on goggle) and that she has "quicksilver" aura to her. Argh. The Roman god Mercury (Hermes in the Greek version) was a god of commerce, travel, and thievery, lead souls to Hades, was Zeus's personal messenger (though he did deliveries and such for the other gods), and played a role in the story of Persephone.

Warning: Mercury and Talon have less-than-admirable banter. Lots of swearing.

-------

Chapter Four: Mucus 

Puddles dotted the sidewalks of which somber mooded pedestrians scooted around, hitching up their ridiculously expensive pants. Ever time Ax and I passed a Screamer, I instinctively sank intangible fingers into his or her aura and left them unobservant, not glancing one bit at the patchy skinned girl or the boy rolling his words around and snatching up cigarette butts off the concrete and tossing them into his insatiable maw. I wasn't completely sure why I bothered, as most of the Screamers were already lost in their thoughts, their minds jumbled up so much a stray word or two rose to my awareness.

Andalite Bandits…That traitorous dapsen…Failed…Suicide…Attempted assassination… 

That last one made me jerk back, tapping at the Screamer, but I couldn't leech any more phrases. Ax, busy trying to unstuck pieces of gum off the ground, accidentally bumped into me and gave me a quizzical stare. I forced the jitters crawling up my spine into submission and rubbed at the ache in my forehead. What had Aximili and his comrades done last night? Meds didn't always keep us updated on the situation unless Talon or I asked during the times we visited him. Why didn't I ask while Pro and he had busied themselves patching up Aximili? Stupid, just stupid.

"You ew look worried and scared. Air-id," Aximili commented.

"I'm fine," I said, looking at the way he'd been about to place his hand on my shoulder. "You know, I've been wondering something. I shrugged it off last time, but it's still bugging me."

"What?" Aximili asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You…I don't know. You have a lot of human gestures. You raise your eyebrow, sigh, shrug, nod, shake your head. The other guy, the Screamer who looks just like you, didn't do any of that," I said. I didn't mention that he had said something about someone called, "Prince Jake". "He twitched his tail in a bunch of different gestures—usually in anger or annoyance—stamped his hoof a few times, and he often blinked or glared or smirked with his eyes. You, however, easily combine those gestures with my kind's."

"I never noticed that before. Ore," Aximili said carefully. "As you know, if you already knew about the Anda—" He seemed at a loss for words, glancing suspiciously at the people around us. It must have gotten irritating not to sense Screamers—if you didn't mind major migraines, that is.

"Call yourselves the Fluffs," I joked, then blanched at the grating response in his aura. "Okay, the Fighters will do. And call our buddies the Screamers."

"Fine, then. Well, the, eh, Fighters have been counterattacking the Screamers' actions for the past three years. To do so, without being captured, we needed to adapt or perish in human society," Aximili said, giving another careless shrug. "And some of the habits are harder to simply forget when not required."

"You mean how army dudes come home and check their homes for disturbances and freak out at the slightest thing out of place? Simply because they had to for months or years in enemy countries?" I asked.

"Not to that extremity, but yes. Ess," Aximili said, nodding.

"Then why do you pick garbage off the street and toss it into your mouth?" I asked. "That's not exactly sane human behavior."

He had an orange butt halfway to his mouth. "Some adaptations have yet to be perfected." His warm brown eyes grinned at me the way only an Andalite could manage. "Besides, I can't help but enjoy the flavor or. It resembles ambells…popcorn and pizza. Slightly peppery ie. Very delectable."

I chuckled. "I'm halfway temped to try it."

"Really ee?"

"No."

By the time we reached _Illusions_, Aximili stopped munching on cigarette butts and other unmentionable material, grasping his stomach uncertainly, and looking a bit green in the face. I rolled my eyes, wondering how a bunch of Andalites could've survived for so long without ODing on peppery toxins.

_Illusions_ was a two-story structure, with dark tinted glass windows and even darker curtains so passersby couldn't get a glimpse of the X-rated dancing going on inside and call for the cops. Not that much indecent action was going on, as it was midday and even the randy club goers had work to attend to. Mostly, from the outside, all you could see was a brick building with graffiti, and piles of garbage and ivy creeping up the sides. I recognized the bored bouncer outside, smoking a camel and glaring at us.

"Not much going on inside," he grunted at our approach. "I ain't letting your buddy in, girl. I already had enough time playin' janitor from the Ecstasy incident last week."

"My friend's not going to—" I started, but Aximili got a surprised look on his face and bent over forwards, his stomach crushing itself against his ribcage. "Oh, shit." I grabbed the alien's wrist and, swerving around an overweight woman in a red suit two sizes too small, ducked into an alleyway. Aximili went over to the space between a brick wall and Dumpster, hacking up his gut's contents. I tried to ignore the wet splatter, staring at the limp body of a dead rat.

Aximili gave the gunk he'd regurgitated a glance ad wiped his lips on his shirtsleeve. "I have to resist overindulging the human digestive system to its limits."

"Or just stop the habit. You better not beg some butts off mercury," I warned.

But the Andalite had focused his attention on a bag of Doritos. "Hmmm…"

"No effing way!" I grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the apparently tempting bag. I dragged him back in front of _Illusions_, where the man gave us a dismissive wave, now chatting away on a palm-sized cell phone.

Even only an eighth of the place packed, _Illusions_ remained a little overwhelming with smoke machines gushing funky-smelling mist into the air and the flashing lights blinking through the color spectrum creating phantom images in the foggy depths, dancing in motion with male couplets. I liked that. On the few occasions I'd come here at night, the randy, electric aura buzzing around me nearly made me go nuts at times and only the guys' homo preference kept me from jumping them. I shook that thought away, checking the place swiftly for Screamers, but another great thing about the place was that Yeerks preferred heterosexuals, as they planned to breed more hosts and usually didn't go out of their way to pull in the other brands of human folly.

A few guys at the bar grinned at us, or rather, Aximili, solidifying my comment on him having good taste. They must've been at least three or so years older than us, but they kept eyeing up Aximili and he noticed the stares, sending a wary at me, his aura fringed with sudden aggressiveness. "I do not believe this establishment is safe. Half a dozen of the people here are staring at us."

"Actually, they're staring at you," I said.

He checked his arms and neck, running his fingers across it. "Did I not complete my morph?" Panic began to set in and disrupt the vibrant, joyous waves around me.

"No." I burst out snickering. "They just want to eat you up."

He frowned at the phrase scrawled across his shirt. "I didn't think cannibalism was legal in this country. Has the United States recently adopted a culture similar to New Guinea?"

I kept on laughing. The loudspeaker hidden somewhere in the ceiling above us bolted out the lyrics to Disturbed's _Hell_, but over the shrieking and screaming I could hear loud, familiar raucous voices cheering at one of the tables. Passing through a veil of smoke, I spotted Talon, Mercury, Hollow, and Vertigo clustered around the circular, black wooded table, their faces lit up from the purple lava lamp standing in the center. Mercury and Vertigo were sharing smokes, Talon had an unlabeled bottle in his hold, and Hollow was busy picking at a nest of fries.

The most talkative one, as usual, appeared to be Vertigo, gesturing with his cigarette, and paying what must have been a bunch of compliments to Talon. At first, a person would have mistaken Vertigo for a women with his effeminate figure, and he had lived to enhance the image, smearing his lips red, applying mascara and glitter around his eyes, his orange-red, bobbed hair cut like a style off a _Vogue_ magazine, and his attire similar to Mercury's. Even with blush layered on his cheeks, I could see a blue-black bruise forming and there were fading bands of red around his throat.

As we approached, Vertigo flicked ash off his cigarette tip and took another drag. "Damn it, Talon. There were three guys. Get over it."

"Only three and human at that," Talon spat. "Two of which had only their fists and one had a knife. Whoop-de-doo. I should've been able to take those fuckers down in as many seconds." He took a pull off the drink, glaring at the crumb-covered tabletop.

"Hon, look at me! That jackass left me looking like shit!" Vertigo exclaimed. I snorted. Vertigo was the only person who could get away with calling Talon, "hon".

"That bastard still marked me," Talon growled and pointed at his left cheek, where amidst the scars was a tiny nick with not even a tear of blood dried on it. "I had to blast my way through bladed allosaurs and centaurs and I get marked by some rotten rich kid's goonies? I'm getting rusty! I need something actually worth fighting. Not those fat, clumsy bastards Meds tells me to—what up, Patches? And…who the fuck are you?"

"Don't be such a meanie, Talon," Hollow said, scooting closer to him for Aximili and me to take our seat. "He's the one I told you about. Axie, you're even cuter as a human!" She pushed the ketchup-slathered fries towards him. "You still hungry?"

"Thank ank you ew," Aximili said and I almost giggled at the wild spiral of delight hanging over him as his fingers dove into the pile and crammed them into that garbage disposal of a mouth. "Hmmm… Salty. Tea."

"Great. Just what we need: a dysfunctional extraterrestrial," Talon groaned.

"Shove off, Talon," Vertigo said, dropping his sweet comments in the defense of an attractive male. He finished his smoke and crushed it in an ashtray. "If all the rest of his people look like this as humans, I _so_ wanna get beamed up. Where'd you find this guy again, Hollow? He's _adooorable_."

"Come on, Vert. You already got your ass smeared once today," Mercury snapped. "He doesn't look interested anyway."

Confusion weaved itself around Aximili. "Interested in what ot?" he asked, red sauce on one cheek. "I am mostly interested est-ed in this ess Meds." At last, Vertigo and Mercury broke into hysterical laughter. Aximili sighed. "I can't understand human mannerisms."

"Not human mannerisms. Just these two," I said. "Vertigo, what happened to your face?"

Vertigo sighed. "One stone hitting two birds scenario, I'm afraid. Robert got word that I was going out with Mark _and_ that I lack an established amount of property."

"As in, he's a bum," Mercury surmised.

"Darling, that is such a discriminating word," Vertigo said. "Well, Robert got into a hissy fit, saying I was trash and a tramp and a whore and other slanderous words. He told Mark and he got into a hypocroniac mode, thinking he got AIDS or something off me—"

"_Hypochondriac_, you moron," Talon grumbled. "Not hypocroniac."

"Both of you stop interrupting," Vertigo said. "Mark sent a couple of his cousins on me, playing up revenge for me spreading some virus to him—FYI, I checked at the doctor's office and I'm _clean_. One of the pricks had me in a choke hold, but our gallant, black knight here happened to be walking by and he taught them a lesson."

"Don't forget about me. I nailed one of those guys in the crotch," Mercury crowed, exhaling a jet of smoke from her mouth. I winced, knowing that rarely a day went by that she didn't wear spike-like heels. "Gallant? More like sadistic. You are one crazy sonova bitch when you're all fired up, Talon."

"Okay, enough with the crap talk," Talon snarled, baring his teeth in a grimace, a startling contrast of ivory against his ebony lips. "What the hell were you and your unit doing in our district? And don't you dare try to lie, Andalite. Demeter there can tell a lie a mile away."

Hollow rolled her eyes. "And we'll take away your fries."

Aximili lapped ketchup and salt off his fingertips, glancing at me and seeing the truth in Talon's words. I could sense a deceit as easily as I could feel the cold air nipping my ears in the club—_Illusions_ gave up a portion of the heating bill to supply the electronics. "I'm sorry rie, but my prince would not aught approve revealing information mation about the…Fighters' actions against the Screamers. Eamers."

At Talon's baffled expression, I said, "I told him to use Fighters instead of Andalite Bandits. And you shouldn't be using the A-word either, idiot. What if one of the Screamers heard that wise ass mouth of yours chatting about them?"

"Whatever," he muttered. "Hmph. Too bad. Hollow said Meds really wanted the Fighters' help."

"Don't give us specific names or anything," Mercury said. "Just the layout."

The Andalite gave each of us a cursory glance, then closed his eyes and sighed again. "Fine eine. My Prince and fellow oe Fighters were attempting ing to save one of the Screamers' resistance members from Vis—the one who has infested a body of my species—his interrogation. However, we were ambushed ooshed and barely managed to escape ape."

A tendril of worry ensnarled him. "What's the matter?" I asked, tempted to reach out and lift his aura from its sudden depression. His emotional cycles had almost as much potency as Hollow's, which might have been contributed by the fact that he was a telepathic being and most of their emotions were internal.

"I wonder eer if the others escaped alive ive," he mumbled, staring past our half-circle into the dense fog surrounding us. "I was too distracted ed and disoriented to ew notice. I should have stayed aayed and fought."

"In the condition you were in? Don't kid yourself," Hollow said, her gentle chocolate eyes sympathetic and she reached across the table to grab Aximili's curled fist. He jerked out of his trance, startled by the touch. "You were just one big, bruised, bloody lump. You barely made it back to the apartment after I helped you take down those smelly Screamers." She snickered. "In fact, if you'd stayed, you'd have been caught and done a lot worst for your pals against your free will."

Vertigo grinned. "Who would want to hurt a face such as that?"

Mercury elbowed him in the ribs. "Get that sly grin off your face."

"Oh, for the love of… Yeah, whatever. Andalites are hard to kill, so don't sweat," Talon affirmed. "None of you start tearing up. So, you guys lost the mission and Patches and Hollow found you."

"Yes. Now, tell me about this Meds," Aximili said.

"He's the ultimate MD of Yeerks. He knows pretty much all there are about Yeerk, human, Andalite, and so forth medicine and disorders and such. He's been dabbling in some cloning and stem cell research in the past few years to an extent…"

"What do you mean ean by that?" Aximili asked.

"The guy has one fucking hell of a conscience," Talon drawled, taking another drink of what I could smell as vodka. "The worth of sentient life, ends justifying the means, all that bull."

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, when it comes to manipulating life, you seek him out, but he's trying not to cross too many lines. In the past five or so years, he's been researching the parasitic relationship between Yeerks and their hosts. He wants to know if it may actually be symbiotic."

Aximili laughed. "Symbiotic? How could slavery be beneficial to _both_ sides?"

"That's why it took him five years, you ninny," Vertigo retorted.

"As I was saying, the answer lies in the slime they excrete," I continued. Aximili had a WTF expression on both his face and aura. "Before, everyone thought that the slime was simply the ultimate lubricant: easy sliding mobility into the host's ear, as well as numbing agents that take away the worst of the pain."

"Don't count on it," Talon grimaced, rubbing his right ear. "You can't imagine the sensation. Like a nail driven into your skull."

Aximili's face betrayed nothing, but his thoughts did. _You'd be surprised, human._

I said nothing, pursing my lips. Those had been the Andalite's rightfully private thoughts, or so he believed. I wouldn't wreck the fragile allegiance between us by yapping my mouth about it. "He found out that… I'm not sure how to explain it…Oh, wait. There's a tiny parasite called a lancet fluke that I learned about in biology that takes over ants and—"

"Lancet eat flukes?" Aximili asked. "What does that have to do with Yeerks?"

"Well, besides the obvious, just listen. These guys start out life in a cow's stomachs, get deposited as cow dung, which gets eaten by snails, and at last are excreted as slime balls that are consumed by ants. Now, the flukes want the food-filled Nirvana of a cow's stomach again and the only way to do is that the ant gets inside the cow. Here's the freaky part of the scenario," I said. "A normal, healthy ant wouldn't get anywhere near a cow's snout, so the parasite rewrites its behavior. The ant becomes a mind slave so-to-speak and willingly waits for some grass-munching bovine to eat him. The ant perishes, but the flukes live to breed another day."

Mercury pushed a half-empty glass of Sprite away from her. "Okay, no more bug stories. I think I'm going to be sick."

"Mind-snatching flukes? Poor anties," Hollow said wistfully.

"Poor humans," Talon corrected.

"Meds decided to test out a similar theory with Screamers," I explained. "For millennia, on their homeworld, the only hosts capable of infestation were the Gedds. Along with that limp of theirs, Gedds often suffered mental and physical disorders caused by the poisonous atmosphere, inbreeding, disease, and other factors. Disorders included blindness, retardation, deafness, yadda yadda. These factors hindered the Screamers' control and efficiency. Just as lancet flukes want a suicidal ant, Screamers all want perfect, able-bodied hosts."

The realization was clicking in the Andalite's mind by the way his aura warred between curiosity and repulsion, eyes wide and intrigued. "You mean…?"

I nodded. "The Yeerks produce an enzyme or whatever that works like a combination of a white blood cell and stem cell. First, it locates the area of the brain or other damaged part of the body and eats away at it. Then, it repairs and replaces the area. However, it's a slow process. Since the enzyme is diluted with the numbing agents and other products in the slime, something as simple as near sightedness could take two years to overcome."

"Doesn't sound very useful. Ool," Aximili commented.

"Except in concentrated amounts. Meds has been collecting the mucus from members of the resistance during medical examinations and trying to find a way to duplicate it. He's mixed it with vaccines given to Hork-Bajir and human hosts. Results showed a higher level of intelligence in the Hork-Bajir and healthier, stronger humans," I said.

Aximili raised an eyebrow. "Low intelligence isn't a disfiguring mutation. The Yeerks irks have infested horses and sharks arks in the past, but neither group oop was affected in that area. The moment the Fighters and I sabotaged aged the plant where they were producing the genetically altered ered sharks, the fish returned to their basic ick instincts inks."

"Horses and sharks aren't people, at least not sentient anyway and Screamers didn't adapt to the dumb beasts of their homeworld. The Hork-Bajir, however, are sentient and the blockage of their intelligence was made by those guys Meds called the Arn," I said. "Nature or people's design, the enzymes in the Yeerk's slime still register the mental lock on their brains as a disability."

"Why hasn't he told old the other in the resistance?" Aximili asked.

"Who says he hasn't?" Talon challenged.

"The other Fighters and I would've found this information by now," Aximili said.

"He doesn't want their hopes too up. A good portion of the Screamers in general would prefer a peaceful ay to coexisting with other sentient species," I said. "Even those within Sub-Visser ranks, from what I've heard."

Aximili snorted.

"You know, one of my mother's old sayings was don't smack the dog before he shows his teeth," Mercury said. "Stop being such a pompous asshole and listen."

"However, as I was saying, such a thing isn't possible at the moment. Your species, the Fighters, as much as we appreciate your battle for freedom, the resistance themselves have fear that the majority of your people would either exterminate them or force them to remain blind and deaf to the world outside their pools if you won," I said. "On the other side of the coin, there's the Council of Thirteen and Vissers."

"If they catch wind of anyone backing out of the war, there'll be enough blood shedding to flood this planet," Talon grumbled. "And, as much as you Fighters would love to see that, Meds ain't going to jeopardize his entire race."

"Think of the possibilities, though, Axie," Hollow said, taking a sip of her Pepsi and sliding toward me. Throat parched from excessive talking, I greedily sucked at the straw. "No more worries with CP, autism, retardation, and so on. Even you Andalites could use it, I'm sure."

Aximili grimaced as she said that and searched the club around us with a swift glance. "Before we continue this discussion, where are the restroom facilities located?"

Mercury blinked. "We just told you about Meds's big discovery and you now need to take a dump? Talon, you said they don't even have to do that!"

"I don't require ire it for that reason," Aximili said, a splash of red creeping up his neck. I doubted he wanted to elaborate on Andalite anatomy for that purpose. Good, neither did I want to know. "I have been in morph for over an hour and a half. I need to return to my own body and remorph."

"Oh…okay," Mercury said. "Well, the guy's room is—"

"I'll show you!" Vertigo exclaimed happily. Sitting between Talon and Mercury this whole time, he slipped underneath the table, and reappeared on the other side, grabbing Aximili's hand and guiding him towards the other side of the club. "Darling, it's right beside the bar."

Mercury snorted. "There was a bit of extra swagger in that strut. Damn. Guess Mark and Robert are already on the nobody list."

Hollow giggled. "Do you like him too, Mercury?" She tucked red and green strands of hair behind her ear. "You do know he's really a blue ponyboy? That boy he's pretending to be is no more than a pair of pants to take off."

"That's not too bad. Better than the other options in our group. Vert's a fag and Talon's asexual," Mercury murmured.

"I am not! It's better than being a two-dollar tramp," Talon growled heatedly.

Mercury tossed a sugar packet at his head. "He looks a bit girly, but did you see those eyes? And skin? And cheeks? He could do something with that hair though. It's too shaggy and long. Looks like a skater's style."

"See? You and Vert are lusting after an _alien_," Talon grumbled, throwing his arms up towards the ceiling. "Hmph." He drank some more of the vodka, turning his attention to me. "Hey, Patches, you sounded a bit like Meds, you know that?"

I took another sip of soda. "What do you mean?"

"Hmph. That's the same long-ass speech Meds gave you after those Hork-Bajir and I busted you out of that lab. All that about medical slime and secrecy." His black eyes narrowed, his fingernail cutting a dent into the tabletop's wooden cover. "Are you sure that was a good idea? You didn't tell him about Pro Metheus or Odin earlier, did you?"

"No. I'll ask them before I open my mouth about either," I promised.

Hollow leaned her head against the crook of Talon's shoulders. "What's got you down?"

"It's the fact that no one outside Meds's small team of Screamer resistance scientists and us know about this. We've kept our lips sealed shut for the past year and in one day, Patches decides to spill her mind out to a goddamn Andalite," Talon snarled.

"Yeah, but they're the good guys, right?" Mercury asked.

Talon's lips peeled back into a crooked smirk, his eyes glinting like black glass. "Compared to Screamers in general, maybe. But I know from personal experience that those guys are far more ruthless than me. To them, we're a lower, backward species—my Yeerk used to tell me so while I was one of the Visser's guards. For God's sake, they released a disease on an entire race of people to exterminate them, so the Screamers couldn't use them as shock troops."

I shivered, remembering the grisly story Meds had told Talon and me, and repeated to Vertigo, Mercury, and Hollow. A few decades ago, when the Yeerk Empire had just started to establish its place in the universe, they had searched for hosts suitable as their military force. They found the Hork-Bajir, a peaceful but powerful race. While they'd slowly overtaken the Hork-Bajir, the Andalites came too late and, outnumbered and without sufficient weaponry, released a Quantum virus to deplete the Hork-Bajir's population. Without a set of morals to muck up the plan, it was a rational idea: no Hork-Bajir, no Yeerk shock troops, and a quick victory for the Andalites.

"'_Sacrifices must be made' was their keen motto. As much as they preach about saving the other races' freedoms, they will destroy a few to rescue the whole," Meds had said, sighing. "I can't tell you how terrible it was. Watching so many creatures dying at such a cruel rate. Our ever forward thinking leaders were paranoid the virus might mutate with Yeerks controlling infected hosts and they were forced to go through Kandrona starvation. It was the Black Death of the Hork-Bajir and Yeerks._

"_We had to literally rewrite the DNA pattern of the Hork-Bajir, splicing it with a few native species of their homeworld before it ended. If we hadn't found those Arn labs… Well, think about it. The Andalites wanted to keep a few hundred million Hork-Bajir out of Yeerk hands. What might they try with seven billion humans under the threat of infestation?"_

I didn't know and never, ever wanted to find out. I'd had nightmares about waking up with my flesh puffy and sizzling with fever, my eyes expanding out of their sockets, face contorted until skin and cartilage tore from my skull…

I shuddered, feeling my stomach clench in mutiny and realized my downward spiral of nausea came from guilt and fury Talon projected at me. I sucked down a shaky breath and pelted Talon with a lash of my own aura, slicing through the emotions swirling around him and jerking him back slightly in his seat. Released from the negative pulses, I plucked an ice cube out of my cup and crunched it between my molars.

"I told you! I didn't say anything about Pro or Odin. They're safe. You know I would never betray them," I growled, panting slightly. "And Aximili felt… I don't know. He despises Yeerks, but that's no different from how the Americans felt against the Nazis during World War two. He's reasonable, though, I can tell you that. He didn't try to attack Hollow or me this morning so we didn't go spouting to the public that we found an alien."

"Andalites don't consider themselves nuts," Talon snapped.

"Don't even try explaining that to me. I spent months in an insanity ward cause of the Screamers remember? I know what they feel like and Aximili doesn't match up," I said, just as a moment of sudden clarity ricocheted in my mind. "Hmmm…"

"What's the matter?" Mercury asked.

"I think…I think he's been around humans more than he's proposed. You don't suppose the Andalites are using help from humans like Meds, do you?" I asked.

"Possible," Talon mused. "One of the people who fought for the Hork-Bajir against the Screamers was an Andalite female. Aximili or his prince could be using a similar ploy."

_(I have to find Prince Jake… I can't be captured…)_

I kneaded my forehead. "I don't know."

"We're back!" Vertigo slid in next to me, followed by Aximili. "Bunch of these ninnies tried to follow in after us, but I told them to beat it."

"Aximili, we need to see your prince," I said.

He had been about to grab my drink, but his hand smacked the side as I said that and splattered the beverage and ice chips across the table. Talon swore and Hollow threw napkins over the mess. The Andalite sighed. "I don't ont think—"

"Whoa. Stop there. We let you meet our prince," Vertigo said, jabbing a thumb at Talon, who sighed in exasperation and rubbed his nose.

"I haven't met your leader eer, Meds," Aximili said.

"Yes, you did," Hollow countered, gathering up the soaked paper into a pile. "He's the one who fixed you up, remember? We saved your life. You owe us a visit with your prince." She cocked her head sideways. "By the way, does he wear a crown or something?"

"Hmph. Just a badge of arrogance, probably," Talon grumbled.

Vertigo grinned, running a hand through his hair. "What if just one of us goes? Like a diplomat. We can't pull any tricks if its one against ten or so of you guys. Now, who goes?" The smirk grew wider. "I would suggest…"

Talon and Mercury both echoed, "No."

"Why not?" Vertigo pouted.

"That goes without saying," Talon growled. Mercury nodded.

"I say Demeter," Hollow said. "She helped me rescue you, Axie and she knows more than the rest of us about Screamer slime, except Talon. Sorry Talon, but I don't think they'll like you cussing every five seconds and picking fights."

Talon shrugged. "It's in my nature. Can't help it."

All eyes stared at Aximili. "I…Hm. Do any of you ew have a communication device?"

"Right here." Vertigo fished a hand through his purse, pulling out a collection of cosmetics and a canister of mints before he retrieved a silver-and-black Verizon phone. "The one thing I'll have Robert to remember by."

"Until he cancels the service," Mercury said.

Aximili ran his thumb over the phone's slick plastic front. "Could I speak to my prince privately?"

"Knock yourself out, but I have a question," Talon said.

"Yes?"

"Why the hell are you wearing my shirt?" Talon asked.


	5. Aximili2

_Mind the Green Bits: __Cheat you? Pfft. Not me…though I should start doing that in college algebra. I blanked out on the test—after a fricking three hours of studying the night before—and that's going to look good on grade… Anyway, I'm you like all my OC's. I kept wondering if I should've kept Hollow, Mercury, and Vertigo in, but that would've been like removing tonsils: not removing anything too vital, but try remembering that when your immune system falters. Ahh, I'll keep 'em._

A/N: As I mentioned about collge algebra—the bane of my existence—if I don't get a damn B or A in that class, I'm screwed. So, the chapters may come every two or three weeks so I can study for math and the PSSA's (I like this just as much as you do, MGB).

A/N: Did I keep the Animorphs in character? This chapter was hardest to write (er, type) by far, cause I don't want them too OOC.

-------

Chapter Five: The Animorphs 

"Hello, Prince Jake. Heeeellooo. Oo," I greeted my prince after finally recalling his home's digit code and once more in the secluded lavatory area. I whispered my words, as two human males dressed in colorful, leathery garments had entered, but I doubted I needed to worry, as they were immersed within the act of connecting each other's lips and groping themselves. Tobias had explained that such actions were considered mating rituals among humans, but they must not have known that two males couldn't breed.

Prince Jake's quick response pulled me out of such puzzling thoughts. "Where the heck have you been? Tobias, Marco, and I were searching for you all last night after we managed to retreat and thought you were dead. Where are you now?"

I had to choose my next words carefully, as Yeerks could have tapped the communications line. "I have ave taken shelter with people who fight for our cause oz." The two humans left the small room, faces flushed with heat and hair askew. "I am with them at a place called _Illusions_. It's a gathering area for members of the male sex to interact."

There was a long pause on the other end. "You're at a gay bar?"

"Gay? Ay? Yes, the people here appear happy," I said. "Prince Jake, why do members of the same gender attempt to breed? Are they confused, since some appear to be feminine?"

"Umm…I think…yeah, Ax, they're confused. Let's leave it at that," Prince Jake answered. "Who are you with? What are their names?"

Normally, we have to be extra cautious with that question. Obviously, the Yeerks would recognize the name of one of their pool mates or an Andalite title. However, that wasn't the case now. "Their names are Talon, Demeter, Vertigo, Hollow, and Mercury."

"Uh-huh." Another pause.

"Is there something wrong, Prince Jake?"

"No. Never mind. Are they with the resisting team?"

"Yes. They resist and they aren't…bugged," I said. Not giving a moment to elaborate on that, I added, "Demeter wants to schedule a meeting between herself and our group. She has information ation on the person Erek told us about."

I held the phone away from my ear as Prince Jake sighed in a deafening, whooshing echo. "If they're a part of the resisters—even not bugged—they have to have already known about _us_. Erek's person would easily have gotten that information from Mr. Tidwell or anyone we've met." Someone—a woman I presumed to be Prince Jake's mother—hollered in the background. "Yeah, Mom! I'll take care of that! Listen Ax, meet us at Cassie's barn with…Demeter."

With that the line went dead and I closed the phone with a loud smack. With only a three seconds interval between, the human with nearly authentic female attributes called Vertigo walked in, smoothing out the article of clothing called a skirt and chuckling.

"We were wondering how much longer you would take," he admitted, grabbing the cell phone and shoving it into his purse. "Thought you and your boss were having a fit about the situation. So, what did he say?"

"He agreed to meet with Demeter," I said.

The boy clapped his hands together, clasped as though in prayer. "Oh, good. Talon kept ranting about how secretive and sneaky you Andalites are. Oh, and about the shirt. He wants it back. Says he doesn't want it covered in fur."

I couldn't help but groan and bristle at the evidently intended insult, however strange it was. The others appeared compliant and willing to stage an allegiance of a sort with the "Andalite Bandits", even with Demeter's barely subtle threat earlier, but I understood the depths of loyalty shared between friends. Talon, however, seemed ready to start a conflict with anybody outside of his group. I had never feared a human—Controller or otherwise—but the calculating, frigid stare in those obsidian eyes made me wary.

Demeter, Hollow, Talon, and Mercury remained at their places around their booth, Demeter now dining on a small platter of French fries and a cheeseburger. The greasy and salty scents tempted me, but I reigned in the craving, waiting patiently as the too skinny girl demolished the food in hungry mouthfuls. Mercury busied herself with staring at a tiny mirror and reapplying the coloring on her face while Hollow talked quietly with Talon.

Demeter finished a cup of a clear, carbonated beverage, finally registering Vertigo and my presence. She wiped the grease off her fingers with a napkin and stood. "We ready to go?"

I nodded.

She stretched her arms and tipped her head to the side with a crack. She turned to the others seated. "I'll see the rest of you guys later tonight at the apartment."

"_If_ we see you," Talon intoned hauntingly.

Mercury slapped his arm. "Don't be such a dramatic ass."

Talon ignored her. "You still got that present I gave you, Patches?"

Demeter patted her pocket. "I don't think it'll come to that." With that, she grabbed my shoulder and led me out of the club, the polluted, stale air outside refreshing after the suffocating, thick fog of _Illusions_. I spotted a couple cigarette butts, but after experiencing the not-quite-enjoyable sensation of vomiting, I was a bit deterred from them.

"The area we're meeting the other Fighters is a large distance from here," I informed, stepping over a gray milky puddle. "Not far for a bird morph, but it will take a couple of your hours on foot."

"No problem-o. Mercury lent me enough money for bus fare," Demeter said, stopping at a bench beside the curb. "We'll just have to wait ten minutes or so."

"Does Meds pay you for your service in the resistance?" Whatever that was. It made sense, though. The human economy was based off a system of exchanged currency and the basic necessities required for human survival—such as food—needed money to be purchased.

"Only if we're desperate. None of us wants to depend on Meds," Demeter said, motioning me to sit down and leaning her head against my shoulder, her body stretched out over the bench. "I didn't get enough sleep after we patched you up. Anyway, Mercury and Vertigo make enough with work. Tell me when the bus comes." Her eyes slid shut.

"What does Mercury do ew?" I asked.

"God, you're full of questions. You can't guess? Well, there are two things you own on the street absolutely: your name and body. You can't profit off a name." The empath must've sensed my perplexity, as she groaned and shifted her resting position. "There's no such thing as prostitution on your world?"

I missed a breath in shock. "No. It's illegal and immoral by Andalite code."

"Same here, but the same should be said for parents who toss their kids out onto the street cause of sexual preferences and drugs. Don't think badly of her or Vertigo, for that matter. At least they're not shredding maple leaves and selling the stuff in dime bags anymore." She snorted. "If it wasn't for Talon, neither of them would be with us since Meds was just as bewildered as you."

I still couldn't approve of such practices, but the abandonment of children was even worse by Andalite standards. To "toss their kids out" was simply barbaric. Earth's environments and cultures were far harsher than anything on my homeworld, but sometimes I couldn't comprehend human brutality and cruelty.

"Hollow was right. You think too much. I don't always borrow cash. I can easily thrift stuff to eat and wear." With that said, her breathing to a soft, peaceful rhythm.

I stared at the murky sky above, gray and depressingly clogged with blankets of stratus clouds. Two prostitutes, a psychic, a former Controller, and a girl who required medication for whatever caused her unpredictable behavior. Were they really our key to finding Irey 951?

-----

The bus had taken only half an hour to reach Prince Jake's community and we'd only used up another ten minutes and fifty-three seconds to reach the wooded area near it. After hiking for twenty minutes and sixteen seconds, to ensure we were nowhere close enough to human facilities for one of them along in our path, I resumed my Andalite form, feeling once again extremely dizzy, reeling as the girl's emotions tangled with my own.

(I wish you would stop doing that,) I said as the giddiness dispersed. (That is far too distracting and annoying. What if some human were to spot me in the middle of the process?)

"If you were so worried about that, then you wouldn't have demorphed just now," she pointed out, preoccupied by the scenery around her. Ferns brushed her calves as she watched swallows and sparrows flit in the hemlock branches overhead, inhaling the spicy, resin odor they gave off. As it was midday, the sunlight filtering through the thick foliage highlighted every green leaf and blade of grass. "I missed this. My dad and I used to drive up to the mountains during the summer and take really long walks by the creeks."

(Earth's vegetation isn't as wildly multicolored as my world, but the grass tastes alright and the variety of animal life is impressive,) I commented, crushing a green turf under my left forehoof, the first taste of grass I'd had in over twenty-four hours. As much as I adored human food, it didn't satisfy my own body when I demorphed.

Demeter watched as I digested the meal under my hoof. "Guess the grass is always greener on the other planet, huh?" She tripped as a cluster of thorny brambles snarled around her pant leg and she fell with a splash in a puddle, swearing. "How the hell didn't I see that?"

(Stay still for a few of your seconds,) I said as I raised my tail blade.

"Don't bother. I got it," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a knife, sawing at the vines, the toothy edge slicing cleanly through them with little effort.

My eyes widened as I recognized the yellowish blade affixed to the leathery handle: an Andalite tail blade. On my world, it wasn't unusual for the bodies of honored war heroes and scientists to have their tail blades collected before cremation, to be heralded as humans did with monuments and badges towards their own dead with respect and honor, but to be broken—or rather, burned by a Dracon beam, as there were few things that could slice an Andalite's blade—and reshaped into a pathetic looking knife? That was just appalling.

Demeter cocked her head at my growing revulsion. "What?"

(That _tool_ is an Andalite tail blade,) I spat.

Her jaw dropped a few inches and she glared at the sky. "Talon, THIS IS SICK!" Covering her mouth with a hand, she picked up the knife and tossed it into the bushes surrounding us. "Fuck. Aximili, I swear I didn't know that was some guy's body part." She yanked her leg out of the brambles' grasp, ripping holes in her already dirt matted pants. "Ouch. Dammit."

(You will need to explain your friends'…histories to my prince,) I said.

She huffed out a few more curses, rubbing her leg, and started off again, her delight of the forest dulled by the darkening pinpoints on her leg coverings and what I'd just informed her about. I started to feel irascible and vexed, and sighed when I realized it wasn't just my own annoyance and recalled that Demeter was an "empath". That only caused my irritability to grow, as I didn't know how that might affect the others' thinking when Demeter told them about Irey 951.

After a while, Demeter started to admire our background again, peeking through the underbrush and watching in fascination as birds of prey and carrion swooped through the sky, like an Andalite child with a new hologram projector. As yet another twenty minutes went by, Demeter asked, "Is that it?"

I nodded. Situated at the end of a strip of road were Cassie's barn and house, the driveway empty of vehicles which meant her parents were working with wounded and diseased animals elsewhere. The barn's red chipped painted door was open a few inches and even from where we stood, I could hear the cacophony of bird shrieks, horses whinnying, and the occasional grunt or growl of one of the predatory beasts.

"Cool. I love animals," Demeter said, smiling. She sniffed at her shoulder and scrunched up her nose. "Probably a good thing it's in the barn. I should've taken a shower. I stink."

I shrugged. (There are humans with the equipment to bathe themselves, but some of them are more noxious and odorous than you.)

"Pfft. I'll take that as a compliment," Demeter muttered, then grinned. "Hey, you just made a joke!"

(I'm glad someone appreciates the effort.)

We went over to the massive door and—apparently wanting to make a noticeable arrival—Demeter thrust it open with one push, stepping cautiously into the building. "What the heck?" Cassie was in the middle of tossing hay in one of the horses' stalls, Marco was lounging on one of the hay bales, and Prince Jake and Rachel had obviously been in a heated argument. Tobias, as usual, was perched on one of the rafters above. "Where are all the damn Andalites? Aximili, where's your prince?" Demeter stared at me with pleading and furious eyes tinged with confusion.

(Like I just said guys, they're here,) Tobias said.

(He is the male adolescent with brown head fur and eyes, wearing green and blue artificial skins,) I said helpfully. (Demeter! What's wrong?)

Demeter had practically crumpled to her knees, turning her attention from Prince Jake to the others, even Tobias, watching him the longest. "Shit. No, no, no. I thought…" She quickly regained her footing and stalked angrily towards Prince Jake. "Andalites don't follow other species. Or are you playing me by being in morph? That's rude. There's no one besides me who came."

"He's human and so are the rest of us," Cassie said in the voice I'd often heard her use toward agitated animals.

Marco laughed. "Ax's following the new trend."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Rachel growled.

"No…It's just that I…" Demeter massaged her forehead, glaring at Rachel. "Calm down, would you? I can't concentrate. I just thought that at least one of you would be an Andalite."

Cassie raised an eyebrow and pointed at me. "He is."

"Yeah, but…never mind." Demeter drew in a couple shaky breaths. "So, you're the 'Andalite Bandits'? Not very Andalite-like from what I can tell."

"We didn't exactly have much of a choice," Marco said, sighing. "Not that we want them thinking we're anything but Andalites, but Bandits? Visser Three's been watching too many midnight Westerns." He started humming: "_I shot the Sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy_."

"Shut up, Marco," Rachel snapped.

Prince Jake studied the patchy-skinned girl. "You aren't exactly what we expected either. Then again, what are you to expect with someone called Demeter?"

Marco had come over to Prince Jake's side, waving his hand in front of his nose. "Dude, when was the last time you bathed? New Yeerk tactic: stench overload? KO your enemies with noxious fumes?"

Demeter hid a snide grin as Rachel smacked him smartly against the back of his head and looked at me. "Told you Aximili that I should've taken one. Earth savers or not, no one likes the tell-tale stench of street urchin."

Cassie chuckled, having ignored Marco and Demeter's smart remarks. She held her hand out for Demeter to shake and the girl tentatively complied. "I'm Cassie. That's Rachel and Marco." She pointed at the rafters where the red-tailed hawk nothlit shifted on his perch. "And that's Tobias. You know Irey 951, right?"

"Huh, oh yeah. We just call him 'Meds' for security matters," Demeter said. "Plus it's a whole lot easier to say off the bat."

(And yet you use Ax's full name,) Tobias mused wonderingly.

"So, what's your real name, Dem?" Rachel asked. "No offense, but I don't think your info's going to be too reliable if we don't even know who you are."

"No even my friends know that except Meds himself." Demeter plucked at a loose string on one of her fingerless gloves. "What do you guys already know about him?"

"Not much to tell the truth. He's Visser Three's doctor, a high ranking resistance member, and wants to take out the visser." Prince Jake sighed. "Since you helped out Ax last night, I'm guessing he already told you what happened." He glanced from me back to Demeter. "We want him dead just as much as you do, but the Yeerks will just send in a replacement and at the moment, we don't need anymore surprises in this war."

"Except for us, apparently," Demeter said.

Tobias preened a couple feathers on his left wing. (So, mind filling us in on the blanks?)

Demeter nodded and licked her lips, preparing to tell them. With Vertigo, Hollow, Mercury, and Talon absent, there were no interruptions except from Rachel and Marco, as she recounted her story about lancet flukes, Yeerk adaptations and slime, and Meds's discovery concerning those and their possible benefits for all sentient species. As the others reflected on this, Demeter summarized her descriptions of her own friends, including Talon's connections to the visser and her empathy skills.

"You're telling me that Yeerks could cure brain disorders," Marco said skeptically.

"Not to mention other body defects," Cassie said in amazement. "That's amazing."

"Oh, yeah. Want to cure the ache in your knees and elbows? Have trouble seeing the blackboard at school? For the simple price of your freedom, you can receive a bucket of mucus," Marco scoffed. "That's worse than those stupid pharmaceutical drug commercial on TV."

"Hey, it's better than Lunesta and Ritalin, I'm sure," Demeter said.

"Now, what's the deal with assassinating the visser?" Rachel asked. She smirked and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "You're taking the fun out of the fight. If anyone's going to take down Visser Three, it's Ax or me."

"That's why I was so disappointed when I saw you guys. See, Meds wanted to make contact with the Andalite Bandits because…" Demeter bit her lip and went to sit down beside a cage containing two skittish squirrels. "He wants someone to take Visser Three's place. He needs an imposter."

"Whoa. What?" Rachel asked. "I don't think I heard you clearly."

"It's true. Aximili's too young to act as Visser Three, plus he has a different build around the arms and legs. I was hoping that one of you guys was his prince—his _Andalite_ prince, I mean—since Andalites don't take juveniles as leaders from what Talon's told me." She snorted. "Seems most of what he's told me has gone down the drain. Anyway, we were going to use Mercury and Vertigo to redo the guy's appearance—you know, change the fur pattern and such—to match Alloran's. Meds would fudge up the entry codes to areas guarded by Biofilters that only admit Visser Three's DNA and provide DNA samples from each of the visser's morphs—which, I might add, wasn't as easy as it sounds to gather."

"What else does he want? There has to be another purpose for him to risk so much and keep it a secret from the rest of the resistance," Cassie inquired.

"Yes. You're right," Demeter admitted, her placid gaze now burning into the ground as I knew the others' emotions and whatever else she "felt" fueled her. I myself hadn't voiced my opinions in the last twenty minutes, keeping my thoughts in a tight rein. "We need an Andalite who can _talk_ to his people and convince them he's gained all access and control over Yeerk society—at least over most visser and sub-vissers. He has to play the part of an extreme Yeerk sympathizer as well and convince them that he has all the dice in his hand: control of the Yeerks and secrets of the Andalites. He has to set up negotiations between the Andalite Electorate and the Yeerk resistance. Yeerk slime for the morphing technology."

(That's a lot to handle for one guy,) Tobias muttered. (The biggest conspiracy of all time. Oh boyo boyo.)

"What?" Demeter asked, and turned back to me, her gaze probing. A tickling sensation, almost completely unnoticeable, caressed the corners of my mind.

(Stay out of my thoughts,) I growled. The others jerked at my outburst, even though Demeter had already explained her ability to them during her explanation of Meds.

Demeter visibly deflated. "Well, then tell me why it won't work."

(I will not soften or limit the truth,) I said calmly, despite the incessant throb of anxiety that she sent me. (If I or anyone else were to somehow obtain Visser Three's position and speak this idea to the Electorate, they would either believe the person to be really Visser Three attempting a tasteless joke, or believe the person to be a traitor or new Andalite-Controller leading them into a trap. The idea of conversing with less than hostile remarks to the Yeerks is unrealistic and baffling to any sensible Andalite.)

The others appeared to have similar opinions, albeit a bit grudgingly, but they knew the reality of my words. Caution, instinct, prejudice… Whatever anyone wanted to call it, Andalites and Yeerks simply won't converse in sociable terms. I myself, who had human, Hork-Bajir, and Chee allies, still remained wary about the Yeerk resistance.

"Before we make any grand decisions about this, we should meet with this Irey 951," Cassie said. "Whether or not any of us agree with this doesn't matter, if we don't meet him. If he can't use the Andalite Bandits, he might use other least preferable actions."

"I agree," Prince Jake said. "We need all the details."

"One more thing," Demeter said softly, looking guiltily up at me.

"Oh, goodie. I'm just dying to know," Marco groaned.

Nibbling her lip again, Demeter, "Since you guys are human and all, I figure that I, as well as Talon and maybe Mercury or the others, could help you. It looks like you guys are short on people and I could help."

"That's nice and all, but—" Marco looked at the rest of us. "Need I say the boy's name?"

He need not have even bothered saying that. All of us clearly remembered the greedy, unstable human specimen named David. We'd saved him from Yeerk infestation and made him into one of our own, and he had repaid the debt by backstabbing us, threatening to give our identities to the Yeerks, and nearly murdering Tobias, Prince Jake, and me, as well as break several human laws from what Prince Jake and Cassie had told me. Rachel shared a glance with me and both of us simultaneously shuddered. Despite all his crimes, it still disturbed me from what we had done: forced him to become a rat nothlit.

If it ever came down to the choice of becoming a vermin nothlit and death, I would gladly prefer to take my own life.

"AHH!" Demeter's knees buckled underneath her and she toppled to the floor, squinting her eyes shut. Cassie and Rachel went over to assist her, but she smacked their hands away. "Who in God's green earth is David? Calm down! Calm down!"

Something akin to a whiplash struck me mentally—or rather, emotionally, I figured.

Demeter panted slightly and cast us an indignant glare. "Next time all of you guys decide to start shouting in your hands, let me know so I can leave the room. I wouldn't have been surprised if Athena popped out of my skull."

(A/N: Yeah, another one of Demeter's Greek jokes. Zeus, after killing a woman who would "produce a son to best him as he did Cronus", by eating her no less—eek—started having major migraines. He had Hephaestus—metal smith of the gods—crack his skull open. Ouch. Out popped Athena, goddess of arts and crafts, defensive war, and—whaddaya know—wisdom. Back to your regularly scheduled fanfic.)

"A couple years ago, we had another member named David join our group, a person we did not know much about, but he had lost his parents and human life because of the blue cube that allows people to morph," Cassie said. "However, later on, he—"

"Proved to be a sneaky, cowardly, spineless weasel," Rachel snarled. "Deserved what he got."

"We don't need another David. We don't know how you would react in battle, especially if the situation went south," Prince Jake intoned.

Blood flooded Demeter's cheeks, making the white patches red and the brown marks greenish. "I already told you that Talon used to fight in the Visser's guard when I told you about Meds's plan. Still does, for the jobs Meds gives him and if someone's harassing the hell outta Hollow or Vertigo." Her fists tightened so hard a couple knuckles cracked in unison. "Don't cut the others any slack either. There aren't any Hork-Bajir or Taxxons on the streets, but there are assholes who will roll or rape or kill you for pleasure. Mercury's got a scar on her stomach where some jerk tried to gut her in alley if you want proof.

"And _I_ know what Visser Three and his goonies can do from personal experience. I spent about a year going through experimentation 'cause he wanted to see how I can detect and repel Screamers." She unzipped her hoodie and discarded it on the barn's hay-strewn floor, wearing only a red shirt that hung loosely on her, and I was once again daunted by the lanky, bony structure of her arms, displaying jagged, pale scars zigzagging them. "See these? I got them when I finally drained Visser three's patience and he ordered two Hork-Bajir to execute me."

Demeter now trembled and sat back down beside the animal cages, but her gaze remained hard and determined. "We'd be a lot more use to you than you'd believe. You guys all have homes and families and school and other restrictions that probably mess with your saving-the-world agenda. Mercury, Talon, and I don't have such limitations. We can be your eyes and ears at least when you're busy with that junk."

Tobias let out a shrill whistle, accompanied by laughter in our heads. (Now they're going to steal my job.)

Rachel joined in, all her perfectly white teeth catching the light as she guffawed. "I like you already. And your buddy Talon sounds cool."

"That's because he's probably homicidal and possibly insane like you, Xena," Marco grumbled. "Talon… What is with your fetish with birds?"

(There's nothing wrong with birds,) Tobias scoffed, ruffling his feathers. (Seems we're going to have to leave this to a vote.)

"Can I vote?" Demeter asked innocently.

"Nope," Marco said. "My vote is no. It's too risky for another David scenario."

"David was a cowardly prick," Rachel snapped. "Dem seems tough enough for the job. There's no way she's lying about those scars. I vote yes."

(Yes,) Tobias said.

(I will agree with my prince,) I said solemnly.

"Don't be such a brownnoser, Aximili," Demeter scolded. "Am I in or out with you?"

(Out, then,) I replied.

"What? Hollow and I saved you and you repay like this?" Demeter scathed.

(I am not trying to be rude. The Animorphs and I use guerilla war tactics against the Yeerks and for that we need a small team. I also do not trust Talon and doubt Hollow and Vertigo would handle a battle well,) I said.

"Yeah, well next time you're caught in the rain with Screamers on your tail, find some other hobo resistance members to save you," Demeter snapped, crossing her arms.

"I agree with Ax's guerilla fighting reasoning, but we could use more help and I doubt we'll find another group of people who knows about the Yeerks and are free anytime soon. I say yes," Cassie said.

"Sorry Marco, sorry Ax. Cassie's right. Yes here too," Prince Jake said.

"You are so not receiving any holiday gifts from me again," Marco grumbled.

Prince Jake glanced at Cassie. "Can you bring it out?" She nodded and went into the backroom, the contents hidden by the door she closed behind her. "Dem, you should—"

"Demeter. Use all the syllables, please," she said.

"Alright_. Demeter_, you already know this isn't a game. We don't try to break the law or commit more crimes than necessary in our work. Remember that we're fighting for the entire human race, so some lines have to be crossed. The morphing power is a tool and not a toy. The Yeerks can never know the Andalite Bandits are really humans. And _never_ forget the two-hour limit, or you'll be stuck forever in morph."

"Is that what happened to Tobias?" Demeter asked, looking up at Tobias with a mixture of curiosity and dread.

"Yes," Prince Jake said. "He can morph again, but the situation it happened in won't be repeated from what I can tell, so don't slack up on your timing. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. I swear by God, Zeus, Amen-Ra, and Odin," Demeter said, holding her hand up, palm out. "I'll make sure you also meet Meds so we can end the war."

Cassie came back out, the inch-by-inch cube cupped in her hands, gleaming an azure blue in the sunlight. "Just touch it. You'll feel a tiny shock."

"Okay." Demeter hesitantly reached her hand out.

Just as her fingertips brushed its surface and she flinched reflexively, the door behind us opened and we turned—well, the others did, I just needed to swivel my eyestalks—to see the holographic face of Erek the Chee. His imitational lips perked up slightly. "New member, eh? Good. I have some news for you."

Marco groaned in frustration. "This day just keeps getting better."


	6. Aximili3

_**Anon**__: I love weird things, hence the empath and weird names._

_**Myahoo**__: Mary-Sues are OCs that have EVERYTHING—good looks, extremely strong, hook up with canon characters already dating each other, and, in the case of X-Men, Eragon, and Animorphs type of fics, have a dozen or so powers. (I can't say much, since I broke a couple of those taboos.) However, yeah, if they have an enemy equally matched against them, no harm, no foal. I was just warning you in case, since OC stories are—in my opinion—the hardest to write. Anywho, I see you've got a second chapter and I'm going to go read I now._

_**Mind the Green Bits**__: Pfft. Studying, cramming, if it keeps up my grades, I'm okay. Yeah, got a 77 on the test I blanked on, but I've still got a 89 for the nineweeks so far and I've pretty much got the midterm down pat for this week. (And I promise to actually study throughout the week, kay?)_

_Anywho, who can't love the situations Ax gets himself into and the Animorphs' reactions? I think my favorite part of the series was when he overdosed on cinnamon buns and got his stomach pumped. Hehe_

_Normally, Demeter wouldn't cave so easily under much, except for the constant little headaches she gets around large groups of Screamers. However, the topic of David really does stir some mixed up feelings in the Animorphs—a melting pot of anger, betrayal, regret, some guilt from Rachel and Ax possibly—and Demeter got a bit psyched out from the overload._

A/N: Since it probably gets annoying with lengthy A/N things stuck in the story, messing up the flow of the tale, I'm using another tactic. At the end of a paragraph I'll place (A/N:1), (A/N:2), etc. At the bottom of the story will be the meanings behind some of the strange mythological references Dem makes, or some terms the others use, or just stuff that may be confusing to the reader.

HAPPY EASTER EVERYBODY!

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Chapter Six: Decision

Twilight had begun to set in, the sky turning an orange-purplish shade at the edges, much like the atmosphere of my own homeworld. Above the parallel structures of buildings and the bubble of electrical illumination that covered the city as night progressed, seven birds of prey floated on the still luke-warm thermals: two ospreys, a bald eagle, a peregrine falcon, a red-tailed hawk, a northern harrier, and a merlin. After failing to morph the harrier when we'd retreated not even twenty-four hours before, relief and the thrill of flight had flooded me when I ascended into the air.

Not so much as Demeter, however. Spiraling in circlets, weaving left to right, dropping into short, accelerated dives, the finicky falcon took in every experience flight could offer. Even from the distance we kept between each other, my head had begun to pound and talons clenched reflexively with every rasping chirp and chatter she admitted.

(You are the wind beneath my wings!) Demeter piped. (This must be how Icarus felt!) (A/N: 1)

(Will someone please shut her up?) Marco groaned.

(Demeter, stop that! All the pigeons are freaking out around you and even the people who aren't avid bird watchers will notice a merlin doing cartwheels in midair,) Tobias snapped, adjusting his wingtips and tail feathers as he reached a pocket of dead air.

The dusky brown bird obliged grudgingly, settling into a stiff, gliding position. (I love flying; I always wondered what Icarus thought in the story, but whoa! Nothing compares! But this gliding thing sucks. How can you possibly flap in one place for so long? It's tiring.)

(Falcons dive, hawks soar. Look for patches that have a tiny shimmer to them—though good luck in this lightless zone. They're warmer than the rest and will lift you up like an elevator. Just don't do any more acrobatics,) Tobias said. (Especially since unlike peregrines, merlins are strictly forest dwellers.)

(Damn, you know quite a bit about flying and birds,) Demeter said with real admiration. (Well, I guess you would, since you hang up here all day. Still, come on. No one's gonna notice this high up…)

(Don't diss Tobias's judgment. Like you just said, he knows more about flying than the rest of us combined,) Rachel said. (We especially don't need any attention right now. Even _I_ think this is stupid.)

(While the rest of us conclude it as insane,) Marco sighed. (Geez, this is heavy.)

Rachel snorted. (Yeah right. Try lugging my load.)

(Sorry that not all of us could be big bad baldies,) Marco said.

I agreed wholeheartedly on their opinions on our current action, though I didn't bother to add comment, too preoccupied with clutching the precious, blue item in my talons. Except for Demeter, all of us had a chunk of the Escafil device, each piece carefully measured for the strength of our individual bird morphs. Rachel flew higher than the rest of us, keeping her piece tucked snuggly against her belly, which was almost an entire half of the morphing cube.

Erek—keeping to his reputation as the bringer of bad news, as the others called him—had reported that the Yeerk resistance member who'd attempted to assassinate the visser remained alive within Visser Three's charge. Our attack on one of the entrances had postponed his interrogation for a day, leaving us with little enough time as it was now to repeat our move.

Normally, after such a failed attempt in any mission, we wouldn't immediately reenact the situation so hastily, as the Yeerks would be prepared and waiting. Such an action could seriously be considered suicidal or worse if any of us was captured alive. However, the Yeerk—now recognized as Peca 630—happened to be one of the higher up members as Irey 951 was and Aftran 942 had been, and knew about the "Andalite Bandits". Erek, as well as the Animorphs and, with a shudder, Demeter, believed that underneath enough torture, Peca 630 would reveal the identities of said Bandits.

The Chee had given a brief, yet descriptive, summary of the security surrounding the Yeerk's holding cell—or pool, rather, as they didn't want him to starve yet—which meant the visser had realized just how valuable his would-be killer was. We needed more people, but the Chee were next to ineffective in a battle and the free Hork-Bajir were too far off and wouldn't have the ability to escape through morphing if the circumstances called for it. Which left a situation neither I, nor Marco, were too pleased about: create a couple more Animorphs.

None of Demeter's companions seemed prepared to handle our style of combat. Vertigo and Hollow appeared too vulnerable, both of them too absentminded and defenseless. Mercury had the boastful confidence of Rachel from what Demeter had said and I'd observed, which might lead her to underestimate her foes. Talon alone seemed ready for a fight, especially after what Demeter had surmised quickly about his past, but I doubted that he would listen to a rational order of retreat if Prince Jake called for it.

(Prince Jake, are you completely positive that we can—no, _should_—add more humans to the team?) I inquired.

(Don't call me prince,) he said. (Listen, we don't have much of a choice in this matter. If the Yeerks gain even an inkling of thought that contradicts the idea of 'Andalite Bandits', they will be _that_ much closer to capturing us. It's either new additions or my own brother aiming a Dracon beam at me when I walk through the door.)

Prince Jake's brother, Tom, was a Controller and was precisely the reason he'd joined the war over two years ago. Sometimes I wondered how he remained passive in his sibling's presence, as I probably wouldn't be able to live if my brother had—well, Elfangor and I don't need to worry about that, anyway.

(Yes, but we don't know how they'll react when they fight against the Yeerks,) I continued. (We don't even know much about _them_ in the first place.)

Prince Jake chuckled. (Ax, I barely knew Cassie or Tobias even _after_ our first fight. These people already know about the Yeerks and it'll be _them_ who'll have to trust _us_ first.)

(That is true,) I murmured, already wondering about the reactions of Demeter's group when we would give them a small test of verity.

The city, almost map-like from where we were, stretched on for a couple minutes, an unchanging tide of cement-and-glass buildings scratching the clouds, until it slowly merged and changed into a shadowy, dingier space of crumbling, abandoned structures. The shifting wave of traffic and busy, matter-of-fact pedestrians turned into figures crouched or sprawled in patches of darkness and scantily clothed women—as well as a few men—shivering on corners until the streets and alleys became almost completely empty underneath us.

(Wow. This has to be our best idea yet,) Marco grumbled. (Recruits from the druggie district. There's nothing in this world that could surprise me more.)

(Lighten up, Marco,) Cassie said, flapping her wings on the chillier breeze. (I don't think any of them are out selling their—)

(Vertigo! Mercury!) Demeter called, tucking her wings against her sides and dipping into s slanted dive towards the pair sitting on the curb outside the apartment, sharing a cigarette and wearing colorful articles of artificial skin different from earlier.

(You stand corrected,) Marco said.

(I thought she said Vertigo was a guy…oh,) Rachel muttered.

Mercury had practically inhaled half her cigarette until it disappeared into her throat and choked on the smoke, expelling gasps of smoke, while Vertigo leapt back as the merlin landed on one of the broken streetlights, the bulb shattered. Demeter whistled shrilly, flapping her wings as the two prostitutes stared openmouthed at her, Mercury's eyes slightly teary.

(You seem to have already forgotten the idea of staying inconspicuous,) I said, circling down onto the cornice of one of the apartment buildings. The other Animorphs landed on roofs opposite me, glaring down at the eccentric merlin.

(There's no one around here except Talon and Hollow in the apartment and someone dozing in an alley a couple blocks away,) Demeter said after a minute, which meant she must not have checked before her little performance. (Mercury, did Talon live up to his threat and lock you outside for smoking?)

"D-dem, is that you?" Mercury asked, eyes wide.

Vertigo ran a hand through his hair. "But you're a bird!"

(Seems there's an occupation in ornithology for you, genius,) Demeter said.

"Yep, definitely her." Mercury nodded. "Still as much a smart ass as ever."

Demeter laughed. (Emphasis on "smart".)

"Not to mention arrogant," Vertigo said, shaking his head. "I see you brought some of Axie's friends back with you." He smirked from cheek to cheek.

(Axie?) Tobias asked me privately.

(I don't want to talk about it,) I said, as Marco guffawed.

"I have made my decision." Vertigo stood and spread his arms up to the sky, as though caught in revelation. "If you guys are as wonderful and handsome as Axie, beam me up. I wish to join your people and experience its glory.)

(Good Lord, I don't even want to know,) Marco said. (What have you been up to, Ax? Starting your own alien cult?)

(I am not interested in establishing a religion here,) I said, though my comment did little to curb Marco and Rachel's amused laughter.

"Quit it, Vert. You're embarrassing me, our species and probably Ax," Mercury snapped, smacking him on the arm. "No worries, folks. Our people aren't quite as ridiculous as Vert, here."

(That had better be so, lowly human!) Marco bellowed in a "rougher" thought-speak. (I have yet to be pleased by your primitive sentient race.) Privately to the Animorphs and me, he whispered, (Hey guys, does that sound close enough to an Andalite?)

(Marco, Ax looks like he's going to murder you,) Cassie said dryly.

Mercury curled her lip at us, baring her teeth. "Which one of you feathered bastards said that?" She took off one of her spiked artificial hooves and hefted it, aiming at where Prince Jake, Rachel, and Marco perched. "I used to be on the school softball team, birdboy."

"Which was like five years ago," Vertigo added.

The door to the apartment building slammed open and Talon came out, with Hollow tagging close behind him. "What are you two yelling—" He followed Mercury's stare, then quickly picked out Cassie, Tobias, Demeter, and myself. One of his hands fell to a pants pocket, his eyes scanning for other birds of prey or other peculiar animals. "Oh, fuck. What did you do to Patches?" His face twisted into a nasty grimace.

"Apparently they turned her into a bird," Vertigo said. "Put the knife away, hon. Not very polite."

"They—what?" talon asked, perplexed. "Andalites don't share their technology. There's a rule or code against it."

(Not these guys,) Demeter said. Just as Talon opened his mouth, she said, (Yeah, you're not gonna believe it. Bottom line before we get inside: these guys need help. The Screamers are about to screw up their save-the-world gig if we don't hurry and cut the small talk. Come on, let's go inside and demorph—that's the term, right?) She opened her wings, flapped for a wind current, and swooped from the damaged streetlight through the still open doorway.

Prince Jake and the others glanced at me, because I'd been the only one here so far and I had the only vantage point that looked directly into the structure. (We can enter. The place is safe.) I spread my pinions and followed after Demeter, gliding only half a foot over Hollow and Talon's heads. Feathers rustled behind me and I knew the others had joined us.

Demeter began demorphing first, her brown-and-white feathers melting into similar colored blobs of skin and doughy hair, her eyes popping out of her skull as they enlarged at an amazing rate before sinking back into their sockets. I started my transition to Andalite, a loop of flesh twisting out from my spine and forelegs bursting from my chest as the others landed around me. As my hands gained shape and size, finishing the morph, I picked up the jigsaw piece of Escafil device and joined it with the others sections.

Rachel waved away the barrage of questions Talons started to emit. "Save it. We'll fill you in _after_ we get down to business. Tobias, you still remember what you have to get?"

(Hard to forget anything on a day as crazy as this.) The red-tailed hawk fanned his tail feathers and flapped to gain air in the closed space, struggling awkwardly until he hit the open breeze outside. (Give me a few minutes.)

"Guys, I don't know about you, but I'm surprised. Very surprised," Mercury said. "Shouldn't you fellas have blue fur or tails like him?" She pointed at me.

"We don't have time for that," Prince Jake said. "Look, how much do you know about the Yeerks?"

"The—oh, you mean the Screamers? Why do you—" Mercury stopped, taking in the seriousness stamped in my prince's dark brown eyes. She played idly with the clasp of her purse. "They're worms that crawl into your head and make you their slave. They own the Sharing their leader looks like Ax, except he's older and not so blue. Um, they starve after three days if they don't have Kandrona rays. Dude, stop staring at me like that. You look like Talon a bit. Who are you guys anyways?"

"You can call us the Animorphs," Cassie said, and quickly dealt out everyone's names.

"Ani-what? What kind of stupid name is that?" Talon growled.

"It was a spur of the moment decision," Marco said, shrugging. "You know, Animal Morphers."

"Cute," Hollow said, picking up her sketchbook and flicking through the pages, pursing her lip. "This is the Screamer's actual form." She turned the book towards us and tapped the page. Drawn in pencil was a pudgy, lengthy slug with eyeless antennae and feelers that very much resembled a Yeerk. "Dem and Talon described it for me, and Meds showed me one."

"Close enough," Prince Jake, then sighed. "Listen, we have to hurry this up, but at least you already know about the invasion." He paused. "For the past two years, we're the ones who have been holding off the Yeerks' assault, but right now, they've captured someone in the Yeerk resistance who could end that. We have to get that person out of there, pronto, but our numbers are too few for this. We need help."

"Hmph. I guess Patches signed us up without our knowledge, huh?" Talon asked, face expressionless.

"It's your decision. We aren't forcing you into anything," Cassie said softly. "But yeah, Dem already volunteered to fight with us and said you guys would want to as well."

Hollow giggled. "How do you suppose we help? I can't just keep tossing clumps of dry wall at those smelly Controllers. That all depended on surprise."

"See that?" Prince Jake jerked a thumb at the cube in my hands and, reluctantly, I raised it for a better viewing point, the Andalite script gleaming in the flickering candlelight. "That is the device we used to morph, which Demeter can also do as well now as you've noticed. With it, we've been able to infiltrate and sabotage the Yeerks' advances. If you touch it, you have to join us and fight them as well. However, stay in morph for more than two hours and you'll remain trapped for the rest of your life, and there's no guarantee you'll come out alive when this war ends." Just so no one made any hasty decisions and simply ignored the warning now to regret it later, I raised my blade a few noticeable inches higher.

"If only the army draft was so brutally honest," Mercury said, snickering.

Talon remained silent, sizing my prince up and down as more an opponent than a possible ally and held his gaze, neither of them breaking it until Talon nodded solemnly, smirking, and turned his attention towards Demeter. I did not know the extent of her "empath" talent, but they remained quiet long enough that I suspected a conversation to be going on. The boy grumbled, "Is there any chance we'll come in contact with Visser Three?"

"More times than I think necessary," Marco muttered.

"Sign me up, then. I've been itching for something bigger to fight than Meds's lousy assignments," Talon remarked. "All I have to do is touch the box? Hmph. You'd think there'd be some kind of code to it."

"Hey! If Talon's going into this, so am I," Mercury quickly intoned. "I'm not letting you hold anything over me. Plus, Meds'll have to quit it with the comments on how useful I am."

Vertigo's lower jaw hung open loosely, then clamped shut. "Mercury, Talon, think about this for a second. You could both wind up dead tonight or tomorrow. Who's going to hang with me at Illusions? This life's going to get pretty dull with neither of you around. Now…don't do it!"

Mercury patted his head, ruffling the tidy fiery bob into twisted knots. "Don't worry about nothin', Vert." She lifted the bottom of her shirt up to reveal a white, four-inch scar on her abdomen. "I could've died then when that sick trick got me, but luck and fate have been on my side." (A/N: 2)

Vertigo snorted. "It wasn't luck or fate who dragged you screaming and crying into the ER, darling." He gave Hollow a beseeching look. "I can't preach to these guys. Hollow, you aren't going to go rushing into this insanity, are you?"

"Well…" Hollow chewed on her forefinger and puzzled over it, but, heedless of my raised tail, scampered over between Demeter and me, throwing an arm over Demeter's shoulders and smirking at me. "I made a pact between us over a drink and we're comrades. Jakie and the rest are Axie's comrades, so they're ours too, and vice versa with us. We're going to help each other out then."

Rachel glanced at me. "What did you do?"

(It wasn't anything,) I protested privately. (Hollow apparently overreacts about the smallest incidences.)

Vertigo groaned and paced around his friends. "You guys are all nuts! Delirious! Deranged! Demented! Irrational! I'm calling the psycho ward to see if they have any strait jackets they could spare for you suicidal lunatics!"

"I've been saying the same thing to these guys for years," Marco said, nodding at Rachel, Prince Jake, Cassie, and me.

"You'll forget about that after the first few dozen times you turn into birds, bugs, and bears," Rachel assured. "So, who all wants to defend the planet? Say, aye!"

"Aye," Mercury, Talon, and Hollow said in one voice.

"Remember, there's no turning back. Are you sure?" Cassie asked.

"Hell yeah," Mercury said. "Let's go kick some Screamer butt."

"That's my line," Rachel said in mock anger, chuckling. "Alright, then step right up and tap the cube."

The three of them shared an excited and apprehensive glance, then each pressed their palms against a separate side of the morphing cube. The device responded and even _I_ felt the shock coursing up through their arms. Hollow shook her arm. "Tingly. Like when the dentist shoots you with Novocain and that itchy feel you get for hours later."

"Dammit, fine!" Vertigo dashed over and slammed his hand down on the box, with enough force that he couldn't have stopped himself midway through. "Youch! May as well watch over you people, make sure you don't do something extremely stupid." He scratched his arm. "Though that may be a little too late for me."

Just then, Tobias zoomed into the room, a squirming ball of filthy fur and naked tail in his talons. He flew over to Cassie's shoulder, deposited it into her hands, and glided over to one of the book piles. (Took a few tries. You wouldn't believe how slippery some of these guys are in the city. Yuck. I think I accidentally acquired him." He shuddered.

Cassie rubbed the rat's pointed skull with her thumb, caging him in her fingers. "Do exactly what I'm doing. Touch the animal and imagine yourself as the rat. He'll become calm and limp when you do."

"Lovely. Why are we absorbing a rat?" Vertigo asked with unconcealed disgust.

"We have to get to the Yeerk entrance ASAP. Tobias—he's the hawk—found one near the zoo in our town and we'll be using up ten minutes just getting you some battle and aerial morphs," Cassie explained.

"Why didn't you bring over a bird like Dem's?" Hollow asked. "I think Rachel's eagle could've carried it."

"Our tree-hugger member wasn't about to put a falcon in shock and scar it for life," Marco said, rolling his eyes. "We're just going to have to carry you guys in our bird morphs."

"Aha. Ha ha ha. Did I hear you right?" Vertigo asked. "You're going to 'carry' us as rodents in your big birdie morphs where we'll be suspended, um, how high up in the air?"

(A few hundred feet at least,) Tobias said.

"Calm down, Vert. You always wanted to fly in a plane. This'll be no different," Mercury said.

"No, it won't! Planes have seat belts, you're surrounded by a protective sheet of metal, and the plane doesn't think of you as dinner or drop you unintentionally," Vertigo whined.

(I've only done that twice,) Tobias said, but the boy didn't appear consoled by that.

"I didn't think I'd ever say this, but Tobias, shut up," Rachel said. "Chop, chop, everyone. We don't have a lot of time. We should've been gone minutes ago. Acquire the rat and let's fly."

"Look at the bright side, Vert. You get to be a pretty, little mousie," Hollow said, stroking the rat's side, the fur matted down and gray. "I'm not going to hurt you." Talon and Mercury followed suit, as well as Vertigo, who cringed and gagged slightly as he touched the coarse hair. "How do we morph again?"

"Focus on the rat's form and what he's probably thinking," Cassie said.

"Sheesh, I hope I haven't acquired rabies…" Vertigo muttered.

The four of them simultaneously shut their eyes, the changes beginning almost immediately. Bones crunched and organs gurgled loudly as they shrank in stature, gray fur and whiskers sprouting. As morphing was unpredictable, their changes went through different stages. Talon's face elongated into the rodent's triangular skull, Hollow's limbs shrank into her sides, Vertigo's body became plump and rounded, and a tail shot out from Mercury's spine. Surprised and shocked, she jumped and snapped one of her heels when she hit the ground.

"Dese vere my bavorite bair!" she squeaked, removing the ruined artificial hooves and kicking them to the side of the room. "Ay, Vert! Detter remove er bair efore dey get—l" At that, her tongue became tiny and less flexible. "Ooh, eeew." (A/N: 3)

"What was that, Mercury?" Vertigo asked, taking the longest time to complete the morph. He opened his eyes and paled, his face then covering over with fur. "I'm going to have serious nightmares now." He took off his shoes as she'd advised and, despite his stream of complaints, continued morphing.

Soon there were four chubby rats darting in front of us, caught in their instincts. (Remember that you are all human,) I advised, blocking the path of one of them as he or she tried to run past me to the door. I gently pinned him or her against the wooden floor. (The rat's in control right now. You have to focus on your human thoughts and lives.)

They shook themselves and the one under my tail tried to wiggle free. (I'm all clear now, Axie. You can let me go. This is starting to cramp—how am I talking to you?) Hollow asked as I lifted my blade away and she ran circles around my hooves. (This is cool! I'm telepathic! I can say anything! Ummm… Duck! Daaa-eek! Dooo-uck! Hehe, this is fun.)

"See, Ax? That's you in human morph. Take a good, long look and learn from this," Marco said.

(No, I don't act in that manner,) I said. (It's called thought-speak, Hollow. You can talk privately or openly with others, just by focusing your words towards them. Not at all difficult as you can see.) I concentrated on the marsh hawk, feathers prickling across my body. (I'm morphing the northern harrier now, so keep a tight rein on your instincts.)

While most of us had become hawks, falcons, and eagle, Cassie had shifted into her sleek, silver-and-black patterned wolf. She plucked the Escafil device off the floor, holding it tenderly in her jaws. Prince Jake had told us earlier that someone had to sit this mission out in order to return the cube to its safe hiding spot in the barn and, since we didn't have enough time to fly back to the barn _and_ to the zoo, we'd drawn straws of hay—a favored tactic of my prince when it came to intricate decisions. Cassie had picked the shortest. She was to run back in to her home in wolf morph, mostly because people would mistake her for a large, shaggy dog in the coming darkness.

She wagged her tail and stretched her lipless mouth into a canine grin. (Good luck guys.) She closed her snout completely over the cube and disappeared out the door.

Carefully I closed my claws Hollow, while Demeter grabbed Mercury, Rachel took Talon, and Tobias picked up Vertigo, who let out a squeak of alarm. (Hmph. Let's get this over with. The sooner I'm out of this rat body, the better,) Talon grumbled.

(Heh heh. He's just itching for something with big claws and teeth,) Mercury said.

(Let's go,) Prince Jake said, and we flew.

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Okay, for all the author's notes:

A/N: 1—Icarus is probably the biggest douchebag in Greek mythology. His father, Daedalus, after having sexual relations with one of King Minos's servants (who was the mother of Icarus, if you're wondering how Minos found out), was imprisoned and forced to build a labyrinth to cage Minos's son, the Minotaur. Daedalus and Icarus escaped after he built them a pair of giant wings. They would've made a clean getaway if Icarus hadn't disobeyed his daddy and flown too close to the sun. Our newest Animorph, Demeter, is acting pretty foolish even as she compares her joy to Icarus's until Tobias snaps at her.

A/N: 2—A "sick trick" is someone who pays for sexual favors and harms or kills the hustler.

A/N: 3—Mercury says, "These were my favorite pair! Hey, Vert! Better remove you pair before they get—"

That's all for now, folks!


	7. Demeter4

To my reviewers: (OMG, Mind the Green Bits, where are you? Gasp!)

_**Myahoo**__: Vertigo was freaking out—in his head. He sort of didn't want anyone to think he was a wimp and that he was going to keep his word to help his pals. If the chapter had been in Demeter's POV, there would've probably been a lot more swearing, I'm sure. Aximili has been around the humans for a while now, so I've been mixing the moments when he thinks "artificial skins" and "clothes". So, he would have a vague idea of what heels are, I guess._

_**Weirdo**__: haha You wouldn't believe how many morphs I went through for Talon. His and Demeter's battle morphs may change later in the story. (shrugs) Yeah, I practically hit my head off the keyboard when I realized how rushed it was—though, considering that all my chapters are at least ten pages in length—this one alone was 19!—and many of the stories on the Animorphs section of fanfiction rarely beat 20,000 words when COMPLETE, I'll let it side this time. However, I'll try to keep all of my chapters consistent._

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Chapter Seven: Underground Hell

Ten birds landed in different stages of grace and clumsiness outside the gas station, Aximili's group the former, mine the latter. Really, the merlin's instincts seemed to mock me, as though having wings didn't compensate for the sixteen years of life glued to the ground. Talon's golden eagle banked to the right of us, each mighty wing beat like a drum beat in my sensitive ears. Hollow's goshawk landed between Aximili and Rachel, glaring at them with crimson eyes, but her elated and joyous state was contagious, elevating my spirits and momentarily allowing me to forget why we were here. Mercury and Vertigo came squawking overhead, their black avian forms making mock assault dives at us and tumbling to the alley's rough, cement ground, giggling.

(A whole display of American raptors sleeping contentedly in their cages, ready to be acquired, and you two choose those filthy, feathered garbage pickers,) Tobias huffed. (I can't believe there's a habitat for ravens now… Oh, wait! Someone had the sense to finally jail those scavengers.)

(Oh, shove it, Tobias,) Mercury cawed, snapping her beak with a clack.

Vertigo fanned his tail feathers and strutted confidently forward and back like a runway model. (You have to admit these birds look marvelous. Garbage pickers my arse.)

(Focus people,) Rachel groaned. (Bicker about your feathery fashions later.)

(Alright, Tobias, where's the entrance and how do we enter?) Jake asked.

(Behind the building is a small restroom for employees—almost closet size. Two of the men who work here have gone in there for hours at a time. One of the floor tiles behind the toilet is loose and if you stamp on it hard enough, the floor opens up for two minutes,) Tobias said. (There's a miniature Gleet Biofilter behind the mirror and a bunch of dead roaches and flies on the floor, so we'll all have to be in human form before we get in.)

(One question: why do these entrances have to always be in restrooms or closets or dressing rooms? I know we've compared Yeerks to certain _items_ in toilet bowls, but come on. This is seriously getting old,) Marco grumbled, a mixture of annoyance and amusement seeping from his osprey body.

(Probably to deter the whiny Bandits who're afraid to get a bit of dirt under their nails,) Rachel said.

(Easy for you to say, Miss Eternally Clean Xena,) Marco griped.

(Everyone, demorph. Ax, Tobias, go human. We're going to pass as Controllers until we find the medical facilities connected to the pool. That's where Erek said Peca 630 would be held,) Jake said, his fingers already protruding from his primary feathers and laser eyes losing their ferocity.

I kept expecting it to hurt, for my brain to exhaust itself reporting the agony and screaming as organs relocated themselves and bones stretched at unrealistic lengths, but my body felt numb and pliable as it changed. I shut my eyes to keep the images out—watching Aximili as only an observer was one thing, myself going through the process another—and my thoughts drifted to the strangeness of our new allies, besides the fact that they were human too, not Andalites as most believed.

Jake had fallen into the leadership role the moment I had sensed him, with the practiced ease of responsibility and experience somehow imprinted on his aura, and even now I could feel his mind reviewing the plan he had in store underneath his placid, clam exterior thoughts. He reminded me of Talon weirdly enough, even though Talon rarely respected authority and he would snidely remark against anyone who saw him as one. The fact that he so easily fell under Jake seemed mind-boggling, but even after a year living with him, I knew there were secrets Talon kept from us, for reasons of his own. I tried furtively to peck inconspicuously at his mind, but I may as well have tried to dig and chip against at a steel wall.

Rachel appeared friendly and brutal in equal measures, aggression lurking in some place I kept my distance from. Cassie was the opposite, as open and honest a person I'd ever met, and I marveled at the idea of her in a fight, but now I wished she was here, since her aura had a reassuring texture to it. Marco had the air of a gregarious and joking individual, but in the first few minutes we'd met, there had been something completely icy and calculating in his eyes, especially when he'd mentioned "David". I had yet to figure much out about Tobias, except his extensive knowledge of birds and flight, and I had to keep rehashing my ideas of Aximili.

Extreme relief had washed over me when Erek hadn't joined us. While the others were a heap of blended emotions and thoughts, I hadn't felt _anything_ from the boy. It wasn't like the mental barrier my fingers skimmed across over Talon's head or event the almost intangible slick air that surrounds a freshly dead person—I'd gone to the hospital my father had worked at to recognize it—but Erek fell into either category, though the latter might've freaked me out a little more. It was though he was empty, like he didn't' contain a soul or… I'd have to ask Meds after this.

After this mission, after we rescued Peca 630 from whatever terror Visser Three would undoubtedly use on him. I shuddered, remembering long, bitter nights of cramped cages and sand-textured pills and antiseptic smells and slimy bodies traveling into my head unsuccessfully, trying to rape my mind of its secrets and thoughts, use my body to betray others and drag them into submission in the Yeerks' power.

Talon caught my movement, his raptor yellow eyes fading into ebony orbs. "You going to be able to do this, Patches? You aren't going to go and chicken out on us are you?" He smirked tauntingly. "Need me to hold your clammy hands?"

Memories of suffering and loneliness dispersed in a cloud of sudden frustration, the exact reaction he'd wanted. "Let's hope we don't we don't have to put you on a leash before you get all fight happy. And don't call me Patches!" Something was off with Talon's face, and his arms and legs from what I could see after he'd demorphed without his jacket and his shirt and pants looked even more ragged and torn than before. I had noticed it after he'd demorphed from the rat at the zoo, but now I could see…nothing. "Your scars!"

For the first time since I'd met him, Talon started, rubbing his nose, searching for the dent that had been above his left nostril, and scraping his arms, as though a layer of grime were covering them. Any trace of the pale, haphazard array of scars was gone. The zigzagged cuts on my own arms had disappeared, as well as a few others from the Yeerks' experimenting and prodding of my body, as though that section of my life had never occurred. Mercury lifted her shirt and peered at her stomach, her belly as smooth and unmarred as an infant's, puzzlement flickering around her.

"The morphing technology ology heals any injuries joor-ees or disabilities that are not congenital al," Aximili explained.

Vertigo raised an eyebrow. "As long as they're not STD's?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Um, no. He means as long as you weren't born with them."

"The passageway intersects with a Taxxon tunnel and each ends up at opposite sides of an entrance leading away from the main Pool area. I think that's where we'll find the medical facilities," Tobias said.

"Damn, bird boy, you're good at this," Mercury said.

"Actually, it was fly boy at the time," Tobias corrected.

"Five of us will take the Taxxon tunnel, morph fly or rat, and scope out the place. The rest of you wait outside the pool and act casual. Don't do anything for them to suspect you to be anything besides lower ranking Controllers," Jake warned. "Rachel, Tobias, Hollow, and Talon, you guys come with me through the Taxxon hole. I want to see all the security they've got on Peca 630."

"Can't believe Cassie's missing this," Rachel said.

"Yeah. Woe to Cassie," Marco said indignantly. "Sucks to be her."

We left the alleyway in groups of two and three, skirting around the gas station—needn't have bothered, since the clerk was zoning out to an MP3 player—and ducking behind it, finding one of those smelly cubicles that remind me too much of plastic Port-A-Potty-like things that never work right. My nose twitched at the stench of stale urine and excrement—so the entrance worked at full standard, apparently—waiting as Jake and Tobias slipped in, kneeling onto the sticky floor and feeling around for that loose tile. Eventually one of them found it, since there was a sudden yelp of surprise and the thud of flesh smacking rock. I winced in sympathy.

"Are you guys alright?" I gasped, nervous jitters beginning to spread from me to Hollow and Aximili standing by me.

"Ow…. Yeah, Tobias broke my fall. Mostly," Jake groaned.

"I'll be wonderful once Jake gets his butt out of my face," Tobias grumbled. "Told you not to just yank that tile. Haven't you ever watched any Indiana Jones films?"

There was a shuffling sound as the rest of us crowded around outside the stall, peering in at the gaping hole in the floor, barely able to discern Tobias and Jake from the shadows. One at a time we hoisted ourselves through the opening, the landing jarring my calves despite the short drop. All of us thudded and slapped the concrete floor, making me hope the employee of the convenience store was still spacing out to music with the volume set way high, except for Rachel, who was apparently a gymnast, and Talon, greeting the ground with a graceful roll to the side.

Not much was said as we slowly went deeper into the darkness, the absolute absence of light making me slightly claustrophobic, imagining vicious, ominous creatures lurking in its depths. I shuddered, wishing someone would speak up, but no one wanted some Hork-Bajir or other Controllers drawn toward the sound. Had Orpheus felt the same way when he descended into Hades, armed with only a harp and voice, to save Eurydice? Were we that much different? Going into the bowels of an earthly Hell, with only some scraps of animal DNA in our veins? Except we weren't going to bargain or plead with the ruler of this place, but try to fight and tear through his army for one of his own people. (A/N: 1.)

I almost staggered under the raw stench of blood and rotting flesh that came drifting into my nose, the metallic scent of the former making bile rising in my throat. Vertigo and Mercury muttered a few curses, swearing an entire vocabulary for me. Someone stepped into the material that made a sickening squishing noise.

"I was wondering how you found the tunnel, Tobias," Marco muttered, his aura rearing up in disgust. "Great time to walk around without shoes."

"See you guys on the flip side," Rachel said, her voice changing as her body did.

Talon's monotone, gravelly voice seemed to condense in the darkness as he said, "Hollow, you just go with the others, alright? The Screamers'll notice more than one rat running around."

"Uh-uh, Talon. I'm going to help our comrades and the polar bear I've got will do a lot more than your beastie. Don't worry about me," she chirped. "Let's get ratty, Talon. Ja na, everyone." A small gust blew in my face and I guessed she was waving goodbye.

"Be careful," Mercury said. "I don't want to have to bust a nail saving your butts."

"They couldn't be safer with Rachel," Marco said. "She has a tendency of overdoing it in a brawl."

Wings buzzed and tiny, clawed feet clicked across the ground, and the noises disappeared to the immediate left. My stomach continued top churn and threaten to empty its contents until we put some distance between the decaying carcasses and ourselves. How the others could stand the aroma in fly and rodent bodies with tremendously sensitive nostrils I could only guess at…

The darkness seemed to continue on forever, my only awareness of the others being their steady breathing and wavy auras, leaving me to scan my own thoughts. Had I been thinking correctly when I suggested my friends' help? Would they be able to handle a hostile, bloodthirsty group of Hork-Bajir and Taxxons if this went bad, with blades slicing into their hides and teeth gnawing at their limbs? Face a group of humans and harm them with the ferocity of beasts and soldiers?

I chewed on my lip and tried to rein in my thoughts, shielding them from affecting the others. God, had I sent them into a death trap? Why couldn't I have seen this until I was too late to turn back? I _knew_ how dangerous and merciless the Screamers were! I whispered a silent prayer to Jesus and the deities of my childhood stories, hoping one or two would listen to my beckoning and protect my little street family.

A hand grasped my shoulder and stroked the area between my neck and collarbone, a gesture of comfort and support. Not human. "We're close to the Pool area eya. Demeter eer, you should acquire Mercury ee and morph her for now. Your skin pattern urn is too unique and will draw attention shin."

"Shoot, why didn't we think of that?" Mercury said. An arm swiped the space around me until it smacked my chin, fingers grasping and squeezing it. "Get it over with and don't you dare scratch me up." I was astounded that she so willingly offered her DNA, but she must have been slightly still overwhelmed by the idea of morphing and had always been compulsive. When something had to be done, whether selling herself for food money or knocking the crap out of Vertigo and Hollow's tormentors, she never hesitated.

I smiled softly, even if she couldn't see it and absorbed her essence, a warm rush spreading across my face. I concentrated on her body, her quirks, her attitude, ignoring the exhaustion creeping through me from already morphing the merlin twice and felt the changes, most of them subtle. However, I definitely noticed the added weight and swelling in my front and back—was I really that flat? Damn, that was disappointing. I only spent a few seconds on the change, not wanting to be an exact duplicate of Mercury, since two identical people would be more suspicious than a case of leakoderma.

"So what are we up against? That Erek guy mentioned tight security, but I heard you guys usually fight a dozen or so Hork-Bajir regularly," I said, amazed at the unexpected husky undertone in my vocal cords. "I've seen Hork-Bajir in gory killer mode. What could be much worse than that?"

"Were you not aught paying attention?" Aximili asked, not rudely, just baffled at my ignorance.

"Refresh my memory," I said. I didn't mention that I'd spent too much time trying to analyze Erek's nonexistent aura to pay much observance to the discussion.

Aximili sighed. "The Yeerks have recently infested ead a new set of hosts, about twenty so far, that took four HorkBajir ear each to overtake. They are called Yarbezzazz, simply Yarbezz in singular form. Erek eek didn't get much information about the Yarbezzazz, but they have an ability similar to the morphing technology. Two of them have recently come to Earth to review the visser's progress ease, but are also acting ing as security around Peca 630."

"Course the Chee have to leave fun, little homicidal surprises for us," Marco muttered. "Asking what these things look like or how they morph would ruin the game."

A light peeked around the next corner and everyone's morale strengthened, even Marco's pessimistic mood. Despite that, our enthusiasm quickly quelled as the moans and sobs we'd heard along the tunnel in muffled cries became echoing screams of grief and outrage and hatred and despair. Beneath, around, and above those physical outbursts was a ripping, chaotic mental stream of those emotions and thoughts multiplied in force by tenfold.

_How could this happen? I wanted people to with…_

_Fucking bastards! I'll kill you all! You'll pay for this!_

_Why won't Mommy listen to me? I want to go home._

_Can't see Mother Sky…_

_Please just end this. I can't take it anymore! Kill me!_

_Damn you slugs to Hell!_

_Free or die! Free or die!_

My heart skidded in my chest and breathing became a bewildering labor, the blood pounding in my aching head. My fingertips twitched, wishing to curl around a container of aspirin or even one of those dimebags I'd occasionally see Mercury have on hold, and my knees buckled underneath me. Moisture crawled down my cheeks, a mixture of tears and sweat. Once again, I felt one of Aximili's hands grip my shoulder.

"You can still eel turn around. No one's seen een you yet," Aximili said. "You too, Mercury and Vertigo."

I tried to growl back a retort, but the trembling didn't ease under the tirade of so many Screamers centered in one area. Aximili was right. I could turn around and race back to the gap in the floor of the stall, escape this craziness. I didn't owe Aximili or his friends anything.

And yet despite all the suffering, what every silent scream amounted to was a plead for help. I had a choice, but those people out there didn't, some having lost their freedom years ago. Like my father hadn't much after his attempts to "cure" me had failed and now he couldn't even scream like the rest, having departed for Heaven or the River Styx a year ago. (A/N: 2)

Mercury gave me no time to voice my resolve. "Fuckers. This is just… I can't even put a word to it." She cracked her knuckles with loud pops. "Vert, Dem, you still gearing up to sock and bash these sons of bitches?"

"Darling, like I said, I'm watching out for you," Vertigo said in a voice made calm and stoic with shock, with his thoughts fluttering with fear and revulsion.

"You sure you want to do this?" Marco asked. "Could you stand fighting creatures that could chop you into sushi? Centipedes that would eat you alive?"

Marco was testing our bravado and we all knew it. Vertigo's face twitched, but he glared at Marco with defiance in his frosty blue eyes. "Hun, I'm a queer, not a coward or chicken. Let's go."

I nodded, having regained enough poise and posture to stand straight and smooth any disgust or fury from my features. "Sure thing."

We strolled nonchalantly into the underground Hell, our faces blank and unexpressive. Cages lined many of the walls, full of sobbing, screeching, or numb humans and Hork-Bajir, their combined tsunami of auras assaulting me even though I'd wrapped my mind as secure as I could. In the middle of the enormous cavern sat a gigantic, circular steel tank, with two sets of stairs of stairs leading up to it. Around the entrances and exits to this place, Taxxon holes riddled the walls, with the bloated cannibals chattering away in their high-pitched voices around them. Near a cafeteria section of the area, sipping cocktails and joking among themselves were humans and a few Hork-Bajir with only one mindset. Not Screamers, yet…

I poked Marco's shoulder and he glanced back at me, wariness rimming his mostly vacant eyes. "Who are those people eating lunch over there? I can't feel any screaming from them and there's only, um, how do I explain? Well, there's only one, eh, voice in their heads."

"Those guys sold out their species," Marco hissed in repugnance.

"Carrion," I murmured, remembering when Talon first said it. An appropriate nickname.

"Excuse me," someone said, barging into our little group, shoving Aximili and Vertigo roughly to the side. The person was at least a foot taller than the rest of us, a massive figure with bleached blonde hair and a solemn expression. Even the guy's mind barely screamed under the Yeerk's glum air, whimpering softly instead. "What are you doing without shoes on? You'll ruin the soles of your host's feet. A waste." His pale lips pulled back into a grin without a hint of happiness. "Or can you heal that before two hours time?'

Oh no, no, no. We hadn't even reached the medical facilities and this observant Screamer had us cornered for a dress code violation. I couldn't think of an excuse for our awkward attire for the life of me. Should I demorph and shift into battle mode? How long would it take before this entire room of Screamers had us dragged to that pool of sludge and everything we'd planned was for naught? Could Jake, Rachel, Hollow, Tobias, and Talon retreat before they suspected more of us here?

Mercury curled her lip and swung her hips forward, striding toward the Screamer with the entire disregard for power one only learned on the street. "Excuse yourself then. We're volunteering for one of Irey 951's observation experiments. He needs to know how much human feet can endure without protective coverings. Right now you are interrupting our test of feet against stone floor."

"Really now?" the Screamer asked. "Strange that such a respected medical professor would sink to such menial experiments."

"Are you undermining Visser Three's personal doctor? I should report you!" Marco added. "What's your name and rank?"

The Screamer's carefully controlled aura now had a nervous tickle in it. "Why are you down here? Shouldn't you be 'experimenting' with some notes elsewhere?" he snarled.

"Actually we're looking for Irey now," Mercury said. "Our pal here screwed it up a bit."

"How so?" the Screamer asked.

Marco held up his left foot, still stained red with dried chips of blood and tidbits of flesh. I grimaced, sucking in my stomach and trying to smother it into defeat. "Yeah, I think it may be infected."

"Just because we have six billion bodies to choose from doesn't mean you should waste them so needlessly," the Screamer snarled, inspecting Marco's foot with a glimpse. His eyes flickered to the right and he smiled nastily. Uh-oh. "Well, what do you know? That's Irey 951 now. You can ask him to tell me all about your experiment and have him check that foot of yours."

Marco and Aximili exchanged glances, reluctantly following the Screamer. Vertigo and Mercury, however, snickered and pulled me between them, Vertigo waving eagerly to the trio ahead of us.

Conversing with a female Hork-Bajir and a dark-skinned woman, Meds—or Irey 951 as everyone around me kept calling him—seemed to have been punched in the gut, his shoulders slumped and his expression crestfallen, oblivious to Vertigo's antics—which I quickly ended with a swift elbow to his abdomen. Richard's usually tidy and almost glossy brunette hair stuck up in ragged clumps, as he kept running a nervous hand through it, and his Irish pale skin seemed almost grayish and ill in the light. Richard and Irey were both muttering to each other from the disruptive waves I felt from them, more than they were even talking to the Hork-Bajir and lady.

I heard no complaints from either of his companions, so they must have been Resistance members. Apprehension seized at my insides. Meds looking sick and plotting with two Resistance members, right around the time Visser Three would begin his interrogation. Something was really wrong and—bite me for the cliché—I knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

Our blonde Screamer buddy tapped Meds's shoulder and the doctor turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of Mercury and Vertigo, unable to recognize me with my spliced morph. "These five say that you are using them for a research project concerning human feet's endurance. Am I right?" I wanted to stab the jerk for the arrogance he had that he was about to rat us out. Or he simply thought so, I hoped.

Meds studied us with a stare and both Marco and Aximili's mental hackles rose, ready to give all they had if it came to a fight. Since the blonde Screamer had his back to us, Vertigo gave Meds a sly wink. "Yes, I just gave them this assignment a few days ago. I almost completely forgot about it!" He chuckled, waving his companions away. "Risu 852, Seeyi 234, it has been a pleasure sharing notes on host reproductive capabilities, but it seems I have business to attend to."

Blonde Screamer was obviously a taken back. "Oh, so you are studying…"

"I have grown very intrigued by human traits and necessities," Meds confirmed. "Although, this one was conceived mostly out of boredom as you probably already suspected, Set 696. Now, why are the five of you here?" His real meaning was obvious. Darn, though, I hadn't ever realized how polished his acting skills were, but if you are a big honcho of a secret conspiracy, I guess that came as a requirement.

Vertigo jerked a thumb at Marco. "We have a bit of an infection problem, we think."

The blonde, hulking Screamer sensed that Meds didn't care for his presence anymore and skirted away to other matters, while Meds waited for the man to be completely out of earshot. "Hm, I can take a look at that. No lacerations so you should be fine for the most part. Taxxons, despite their appetite or because of it, have enzyme in their saliva that eradicates diseases and bacteria in their food. That is where you stepped, correct? No other host eats raw flesh."

"Yeah, you're right on the money," Mercury said.

"We should get that cleaned up, though," Meds added. "Mercury, Vertigo, why are you two down _here_? And who are these people?"

"New friends. Well, actually, this is Dem," Vertigo whispered, pointing at me.

"Can we please talk about this somewhere a little more, eh, private?" I asked, ignoring Meds's astonished expression. "We have a job to do and I don't feel it safe discussing it here." There was also the fact that the Screamers' concentrated amounts of anguish were starting to peck away at my shields, threatening to send me into a schizophrenic meltdown. Aximili and Marco had seen enough of that already.

Meds nodded in agreement and beckoned us to follow him into a tunnel leading away from the Pool area, not suffocating dark and oppressive, but with lights along the ceiling, giving off an ironic cheery glow. It was also much wider, splitting off into separate passageways, making me wonder if anyone had ever gotten lost in its depths. Meds kept up a stately pace, with all the dignity a doctor deserved, while Mercury and Vertigo pestered Aximili and Marco forward.

Meds's agitation wafted back towards me and I cringed, shoving it away from my mind. Normally, the man and Yeerk that made up Meds were both in happy, curious moods when I saw them, only depressed and aggravated when he explained the happenings of the Yeerk and Andalite war. What had he done to cause him to be so distraught?

He stopped outside a smooth sheet of metal that was apparently a door, with what looked like one of those circuit box things people have in their basements if the electricity shut off during a storm. He pressed his palm to it, muttering a few phrases in an alien language I didn't understand. The mechanism made a strange clicking noise and slid to the side.

(Primitive,) Aximili drawled privately to us. "Ouch!" He winced; shaking his foot after Mercury had stomped on it.

"No roughhousing, please," Meds muttered, stepping through and the rest of us followed inside. He grabbed Marco's arm and pointed to a sink in the corner. "Wash that foot off. I have some decontaminator you can rub over it and the skin will absorb it." As he said it, he started scavenging in a desk drawer.

The room looked similar to the one at his own place, with a metallic, silver sheen table taking up the space in the middle of the room—not that it was a puny area, since Aximili could've comfortably strode in his natural form around it without bumping into everything. Around the perimeter of the room was a countertop that looked as though it had ritualistic cleanings, broken up only to allow space for Meds's desk and a sink in the corners. On top of it were machines whose functions I could only guess at and beneath it were hundreds of drawers marked with titles in other languages and number codes.

"So, Meds, did you steal this design off a House or ER episode?" Mercury asked.

"Are there air any security cameras ahs?" Aximili asked more importantly.

"I never watch human television shows, as they are often misled and inaccurate, and no, as a higher-ranking Yeerk, I have some liberties towards privacy," Meds answered, pulling a clear, brown container filled with some viscous liquid. He placed it on the counter and slid it down to Marco. "Don't use more than a palm-full or your foot will be numb and limp for a week." He stared at me for a while, tipping his head to the side. "Demeter, you said? Was that Andalite that grateful to give you access to a morphing cube?" He guffawed. "They're usually more stingy about that."

Aximili's eye twitched slightly.

I chuckled and focused on my own body, my breasts and butt decreasing in size, and my skin becoming splotchy and flawed, as it always had been. "Not all Andalites are the bastards you and Talon say they are." _Shut up before Aximili tries to garrote you with medical tape._

Meds shrugged. "You won't find a greedier or more selfish people. Now, who are you two?"

Marco snickered as Aximili's face darkened and he snapped, "Andalites aren't greedy or selfish!"

"They're two of the Andalite Bandits, if you hadn't noticed already," I said sheepishly, not mentioning that only one of them was a blue, furry centaur in reality, gathering perplexity from Vertigo and Mercury when I didn't say so. I hadn't lied to Talon when I said I wouldn't simply give away information about Pro Metheus or Odin to the Bandits, but I also wouldn't do the same about Aximili or the others. I'd leave that for Meds and Jake to discuss. "Calm down, Aximili. If it hadn't been for Meds, Talon would've probably dumped your cadaver in a ditch by now."

Marco smirked. "Now say thank you to the brain stealing doctor, Aximili." Aximili glared at him.

Meds laughed. "I was wondering how you'd turned out."

I perched myself on the steel table, swinging my legs to rid the tension I'd sensed earlier in Meds. "So why are you so depressed, Meds?"

"How did you—oh, never mind," Meds muttered, sighing. His eyes narrowed and he messed up his hair again with another swipe of his hand. "I've had to say goodbye to a dear colleague of mine. He and his host were outstanding loyalists to the Resistance, but he was also a little too foolhardy and headstrong."

My insides grew cold and numb, having nothing to do with the chilly surface of the table deadening my bum, nor the guilt circulating around Meds. "Peca 630?"

Meds stared at me with surprise. "Is your empathy becoming keener?"

"Eh, no. We're here because of him," Mercury said. "The Andalite Bandits made us honorary recruits so we could help them on this rescue mission. Though the initiation process was a little hurried."

"You think?" Vertigo asked. "Yep, we're helping Axie and his crew save Peca. They need more help because of some Yarbitza."

"Yarbezz," Marco corrected.

Meds's eyebrows curled into half moons and his jaw want slack, then his eyes crinkled and he laughed. "Well, perhaps one good thing has happened today. That blundering dapsen Set 696 and his suspicions kept you from doing something pointlessly."

"Not exactly. He happens to have information on us Visser Three can't have," Marco said.

"That most of you are humans?" Meds asked, and before Marco or Aximili or I could stutter out an answer, he raised a hand. "Save it. Aftran was a cousin of mine and a fellow pacifist."

"Uh-huh. Well then, if you guys are such 'pacifists', why did your buddy try to assassinate the visser? If he hadn't, we wouldn't be in this mess," Marco griped.

"As I just said, Peca 630 has always been as arrogant as Andalite. Don't get angry. I'm not exaggerating about that trait," Meds snapped at Aximili's irritated glare. "We're pacifists at heart, but during times such as these, we too have to take action. Unfortunately, Peca 630 couldn't wait and has far too many secrets of the Resistance, such as the identities of most of its members." He sighed. "At least, he knew the consequences of his actions and accepted them. I will miss his company."

"Don't get all gloomy, Meds," Vertigo assured. "Just tell us where they're holding him."

"Too late for that," Meds said.

"No it is not," Aximili said. "There are five of your minutes left before the interrogation."

Meds shook his head. "In the last twenty-four hours, Peca 630 has been contained in a holding tank, a miniature version of the Pool itself. He must have known that his attempt of killing the visser might fail, so he was practically starved when we retrieved him from his host. I was one of the people adding nutrients into the tank, but added a minor dose of conium. I'm sure one of you knows what that is, if you happened to have read about Socrates's execution." He glanced at me.

One of the very un-Yeerk-like habits he'd picked up from Richard was an avid delight in ancient Earth history, especially concerning the Greeks. If I remembered it correctly, the Greeks had sentenced Socrates, a well-respected philosopher, to death suing poison hemlock, which slowly poisoned him from the feet up his waist going ever upwards until the toxins—mainly conium—paralyzed the muscles in his chest and shut off the brain. (A/N: 3)

"Oh, God," I whispered. "We have to warn the others."

"Others? Who else is here?" Meds asked, bewildered.

Without warning, Tobias's voice entered my and the others' minds, (We got Peca 630, but there's a troop of Hork-Bajir coming our way. Hurry up, morph, and get your butts over here!)

"Shit, fuck, dammit!" Vertigo spat. "Where are they now, Meds?" Just as he said that, the walls seemed to shake and shudder with the roar of a tiger, followed by the bellows of bears. "Never mind. I think we'll find them soon enough."

"Well, Rachel's not here, so let's do it," Marco announced. "Oh, and nobody tell her I said that." He handed the container of syrupy substance back to Meds. "Thanks and I'm sure we'll be meeting up again soon." Even as he said that, his face and hands became thick, black, and rubbery.

Nervousness, excitement, and apprehension swirled around Mercury and Vertigo, but their bodies altered nonetheless. Black rosettes bloomed across Mercury's skin, her dark ringlets of hair becoming stiff and tawny gold, and her ears curling and crawling to the top of her head, but somehow the transition seemed oddly beautiful, even as her canines hung like stalagmites and stalactites from her swelling jaw. Vertigo twisted and dwindled in size, watching in wonder and fear as his skin turned scarlet and scaly, his nose and lips fusing together.

The hair along the back of my neck grew into a bushy, short pale orange mane, my bangs turning the same color and hanging over my eyes before receding into a manageable length. Sandy, coarse fur spread across me, except for the black on my hands and feet, and I stared at it entranced until my knees cracked and I tipped over the steel table, hitting the floor with a yelp. I shook my head to rid the sheepish tinge in my aura, as my face elongated into a heavy muzzle, whiskers sliding from my cheeks.

The hyena's instincts melded into my brain and I cringed at the bright, electrical light illuminating the room, a low growl building in my throat. I tested my sense of smell, but I needn't have bothered, the gorilla, jaguar, human, Andalite, and red spitting cobra in plain sight. The jaguar—so much like a leopard, but heavier, stockier, and with more vicious looking bite force—spat at me, her graceful form in a defensive stance, eyeing me up. The cobra knew it was outmatched, slithering away to a corner of the room, studying us with its flat, dead eyes.

"Demeter?" the man asked, smelling not of fear, but wary and concern. I snorted at the strange odor in my presence, still facing off with the jungle feline. "You're not a dog. Stop growling."

"Grr…" I growled.

"Haaahisss-ACK!" the jaguar hissed and spat menacingly.

(Actually, the hyena is a cat from what I've read in the encyclopedia,) the Andalite said. He flicked his blade casually to the side, catching the light in an ivory blur, as well as my attention. (You three are Demeter, Mercury, and Vertigo, all human. We need to help Prince Jake and the others. Control yourselves!)

With less patience, the gorilla suddenly gripped the jaguar by the nape of her neck and shook her, causing the cat to struggle and snarl in fury. (Wakie, wakie, Mercury. Time to be human again and get to work.)

The cat blinked her lime green eyes and shrugged away from the primate's hold. (Oh, whoopsie. Sorry about that. This kitty's mean. Hey. Vert? Dem? How're you too?)

(Agh…this whole double mind junk is making me loopy. I think I know how Dem feels,) Vertigo moaned. (I need some coffee. No, scratch that. A bottle of Smirnoff and a glass of the Captain. With an umbrella.)

The female hyena's dominance shattered at the sounds of my friends' voices and I shook my compact body, tongue lolling as I registered my status as a Homo sapien. Nasty headache there—I'd join Vertigo in his drinking vice. As I did that, another roar vibrated through the walls and even here I could feel desperation from Talon, Tobias, Jake, Rachel, and Hollow. Marco was already at the door, squishing his bulk through the narrow frame.

(Let's get this party started. I join this craziness and may as well see it to the full extent,) Vertigo said. (Uh, wait, this snake isn't as fast as I thought…)

(Climb on up, then,) Mercury said, lowering her sleek head toward the serpent and Vertigo twined around her neck, his smooth head resting between her rounded ears. I almost laughed at how much they looked like some lost, living depiction of the Egyptian goddess Sekhmet. (A/N: 4)

Meds rubbed the bridge of his nose as we sauntered out, staring at me. "I'll need a couple explanations, Demeter."

I nodded. (Tell Pro and Odin I said hi.)

Ever open an oven door and feel the rush of heat? Or press a thumb over the spout of a hose set at full blast and be hit with the water's force? As I stepped out into the hall, the air became dense and heavy, my mind doing a double take, as I tried to filter through the pain and fury and death clogging my gray matter. In my moment of distraction, a flicker of movement and green scales and white fur peeked around the corner to our far right. Hollow, in polar bear morph, taking on a Hork-Bajir. She won, but there were an increasing number of crimson and wet cuts around her shoulders and rump.

(Don't worry, dearie! The cavalry's here!) Vertigo called.

I barked out a few rumbling, squeaky laughs, the telltale call of the hyena. I loped down the hall between Aximili and Mercury, with Marco ahead of us. We curved around the corner, Marco snatching a Hork-Bajir slashing at Jake, a Bengal tiger. Aximili darted between the bladed lizards, faster than the fleet-footed Atalanta, his tail a blur as it whipped and severed and decapitated. Mercury leapt at another of Hollow's assailants, Vertigo giving his venom-flicking fangs a test run. (A/N: 5)

A Hork-Bajir came at me, his ruby eyes blazing and blades flashing like crystals in the light. I crouched down on my haunches and leapt at his chest, knocking the air out of his chest and sending the pair of us rolling into a wall. I ran from his crumpled, dazed form, to the aid of Talon and Rachel, facing off half a dozen Hork-Bajir.

Ignoring the pulsing, erratic auras battering me from all sides, I glared at Talon. (You chose a heavyweight pig?)

(The word you're looking for is hippopotamus, Patches. And these 'heavyweight pigs' can chomp a crocodile in two,) he snarled. In demonstration, he snatched a struggling Hork-Bajir digging her blades into his massive sides into his enormous maw, with canine teeth a couple feet in length, and snapped them shut with a loud crunch in between. (Hmph. A little too sour and salty for me.) He swung his head and tossed the limp body away.

I gagged slightly, even as the scent of fresh meat and spilled blood enticed the hyena. One of the human-Controllers aimed a Dracon beam at me and I yelped as I barely dodged to the side, and then snarled threateningly at him. I barreled between Rachel and her foe, coming at the man in a blur of fur and claws and fangs, forgetting I was human and simply thinking of survival as I clamped my jaws over his arm. Crunch!

The air screamed of blades and claws coming at my left and I whipped to the side, pouncing on the Hork-Bajir and tearing at his abdomen, my muzzle soon drenched in bodily fluids. The part of me that was Demeter cried in sympathy as the pain in the Hork-Bajir and Yeerk's minds ricocheted into my own, but the hyena relished the kill, taking a few swallows before reluctantly attacking another opponent, his throat torn and spraying me with blood.

Just as I did that, someone slashed at my hind leg, slicing through flesh and muscle, making me whimper in burning pain. Rachel stalked up behind me and swiped at him with ham-sized paws. I lapped quickly at my wound, checking if it was serious, but besides the limp I'd later have, it proved to be nothing mortal or even crippling.

(Shit!) Talon growled. I swung my head at the commotion, as one of the Hork-Bajir had jumped onto the hippo's broad back, clinging with its arm and knee blades, and raking at Talon's shoulders with its forehead blades. Talon swore, bashing himself against the walls of the tunnel and swinging his head, trying to loosen the pesky Controller. The Hork-Bajir snapped a few alien and English phrases back at him, chuckling madly as it left deep, oozing gashes in the thick hide.

I snarled and raced to his side, jumping onto his enormous mouth, digging my claws into the skin as he continued to struggle underneath me. I snapped my teeth inches from the Hork-Bajir's beak and it retaliated with a swing of its head, slicing cleaning across my chest. My lips peeled back even farther from my teeth and I threw myself forward, my fangs and claws catching on the leathery skin of his collarbone. We tumbled from Talon's back, the Hork-Bajir pinning me underneath him while I sank my teeth deeper into his hide, feeling and hearing bone snap.

The Hork-Bajir howled in agony, stumbling to his taloned feet even I swung from his chest, a writhing ball of anger and bestial instinct. He slashed at my belly, but I swung to the right, tearing flesh and muscle as I hit the ground. A Dracon beam flashed behind me—_tseew!—_and burned my rump. (OW!) The Hork-Bajir, clutching his chest, came at me once more and this time left a deep laceration along my shoulders. I shrieked at the pain and back stepped away, readying for a pounce, but he gave me no time, matching my speed.

A stream of clear liquid splashed into his eyes and he grasped them, tripping over his feet. I looked at Vertigo, raised half a foot over Mercury's head, winking at me with one of his inky black eyes. (You owe me love. I'm almost out of this stuff.)

Finally, Talon and Marco took care of the last few Hork-Bajir. Only a handful of human-Controllers remained, as well as a few half-conscious Hork-Bajir, holding Dracon beams, but they took in stock of the cobra, hawk, jaguar, tiger, grizzly bear, polar bear, hippo, gorilla, Andalite, and hyena, quickly dispersing, scattering to the ends of the tunnel. To be sure they didn't simply get out of range to take a few easy shots at us, Jake, Hollow, and Rachel chased after them, snapping at their heels, and padding back to our group.

My group—Marco, Aximili, Mercury, Vertigo, and I—hadn't suffered much since we'd just recently joined the fight, but the others looked like a mess. Large, irregular lacerations marred Talon's sides, shoulders, and limbs, one of his ears sheered clean off. Hollow and Rachel were both matted in blood, both of Rachel's hind legs so severely burned and shredded I was amazed she could stand. Tobias looked completely exhausted, as it was next to impossible to fly in the still, closed space of the tunnel. Someone had practically plucked out Jake's left eye, a gooey mess dribbling down his muzzle and he no longer had a tail.

Without a fight to distract me, the hyena receded to the corners of my mind, ready to reappear if the situation go drastic again, and leaving me alone as the air thickened once more with death, rage, and pain. I'd always believed in souls and the Afterlife, but no put much thought in ghosts clinging to the area of their demise. However, in the corners of my sight, intangible, wavering forms seemed to compress and fade in equal intervals. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. No, it was just the overload coursing through my brain, but still I couldn't completely brush off the sick, icy dread creeping through me.

Rachel nudged my side with her jaw. (Hey, Spacey, Jake just said to get a move on.)

(Oh, right.) I lapped the froth and fluids from my jaw, and tailed behind the others, soon catching the scent of liquid lead. (Hey, where's Peca 630?)

(Marco told us he was dead,) Rachel said dismissively, shrugging.

A wisp of guilt stirred in me, as we should've at least left his body—whatever was left of it—with Meds, but I shoved the irrational thought aside. No time, May as well sob for the Hork-Bajir-Controllers and human-Controllers lying discarded behind us.

Jake and Talon, both in the lead, stiffened suddenly, the tiger's nose twitching and the hippo's single ear swiveling. Puzzled, I sat back on my haunches and sniffed the air, noting a new odor drifting through the tunnel, almost as strong as the smell of the Yeerk Pool. It was neither pleasant, nor revolting, a mixture of cinnamon, leather, and toilet water. Despite its unknown origin, the hyena's mind whined and shuffled uneasily beside mine.

Coming toward us was another troop of Hork-Bajir, only eight in total, and a couple of human-Controllers, cocky and swaggering, their auras so arrogant I was tempted to lash back at them with my own. And I still couldn't grasp the reason for their boldness even as the creature between them grinned sardonically at us.

The beast was as large as Aximili, though its body resembled a brontosaurus's, rather than any equine shape, with a clumsy, fat tail dragging on the ground behind it. Mounted above its chest was a sinuous neck three feet long, ending in a head that reminded me of a seal's, with horn-like projections growing out the back of its skull and glinting, jewel-like eyes of an almond shade. Think, shaggy, bronze-streaked peppery red fur covered it. Seemingly out of place with its dinosaur-seal body, two flipper-like, naked lumps of flesh hung from its shoulder blades, trailing along the ground and tripping the humans.

(That's a Yarbezz? Puh-lease,) Rachel muttered. (It can barely walk with that bloated gut it has. Ha!) Indeed, its belly was so swollen it hung down to its knees.

Why was the hyena so scared? She lived in an environment dominated by massive elephants and wildebeest and lions and crocodiles. I turned to Aximili, nipping his hand with my teeth. (What did Erek say about this thing again?)

Aximili studied me with a raised eyestalk. (You must suffer from short-term memory loss, because you seem to forget everything anyone says to you.)

(Bite me.) I clashed my teeth together, chuckling nervously. (Quit it with the dry sense of humor.)

(Teach me how to distinguish dry humor from wet humor,) Aximili retorted. (The Yarbezz has morphing powers. I suspect those growths hanging from its sides are the key to its morphing ability. I can't see them serving any other purpose.)

I shrugged. (Attracts the ladies? Something about the scent says its male.)

The Yarbezz snorted as it caught a good viewing of us with its tiny, sparkling eyes, hissing in what I expected was a chuckle. "Dessse are da Andalite Banditsss? Hsss. Vissser Three informed me dat dere vere lesss of you. Hsss, hsss. Leavesss more for my host to feassst on." A thin, milky white tongue lapped at its cheek. "Hard do imagine sssuch flimsssy beasssts morphsss have causssed my sssibling sssooo much trouble."

(Whoa, that's Visser Three's brother?) Marco exclaimed. (Well, there's the arrogant, I-shall-kill-you-all ego, that's for sure.)

Talon chuckled. (The host health standards seemed to have gone down since I was here. Hmph.) His plate-size nostrils snorted in derision. (Where's the Visser? I want to fight _him_, not this chubby prick.)

A blonde woman with porcelain skin waved her Dracon beam at us. "Visser Three wants them alive for their morphing abilities. We can pick them off from this distance."

The Yarbezz spat at her feet, his lipless mouth curling over his gums. "All we need isss one morph capable Andalite. We infessst him and we'll know where de morphing cube dey have isss." He snickered. "Besssidesss, I need to tessst de full capabilities of thisss hossst. Dese creaturesss look like fair game." He swung his head in front of her, growling. "Do you have any more complaintsss?"

"No, Sub-Visser Six." She swallowed fretfully. "It's just that Visser Three—"

The Yarbezz's whiskers quivered in agitation and before the woman could spout out another word, one of the oddities on its shoulders twisted and reshaped into a tentacle-like limb, two jagged blades sliding from sheaths of flesh. In a split-second of motion, the blade swung and the woman gave a surprised look at her midsection, watching in growing horror as her upper torso toppled from her pelvis. She gave one tiny, barely audible gasp of shock and her eyes clouded over, her skull cracking against the hard-packed earthen floor. The other Controllers shuddered and took a few steps away from Sub-Visser Six.

The sub-visser licked idly at one of his dripping blades and grimaced. "Tastesss like dirt." He surveyed the Controllers around him. "Anyone elssse have sssomething do complain about? I'm listening."

They decided they could voice their concerns to their visser later, with a good fifty feet between themselves and the Yarbezz, who now focused his attention on us again, his other flap of flesh morphing as well.

(Oh, shee-it,) Vertigo hissed.

That pretty summed up the rest of our feelings and thoughts. I turned my head to Jake, who glared at the sub-visser with his remaining yellow eye. (So what do the Animorphs do when the mission takes a nosedive?)

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Wow. Nineteen pages. My fingers ache. Ugh. This took TWO days of typing, so I'm expecting at least THREE reviews before I upload another chapter. If you don't, may this cliffhanger haunt your dreams! Muahahaha! I'm just that evil. Hehheh.

For the massive amount of Author's Notes:

A/N:1—Hopefully my little excerpts from Greek mythology aren't annoying you peeps. Anyway, Orpheus was a very talented musician in Greek mythology and had a beautiful oak nymph wife, Eurydice. People suspected that she was bewitching him and sent an assassin after her. She fled, but stepped over a snake's nest and died from the venom. Orpheus—being the devoted husband he was, sigh—journeyed into the Underworld, using his voice to calm Cerberus, the three-headed monster dog guarding it, and went to Hades himself to free his wife's soul and let her live again. Hades—also known as Pluto and Dis—refused, but his harpies were so charmed with Orpheu's talent that they persuaded the god of death to listen to Orpheus. Hades conceded, but said Orpheus must not look back over his shoulder for his wife until he left the Underworld. Orpheus almost made it, but just a few steps away from the exit, he peeked behind him, saw a vaporous apparition, and the shade—or ghost, if you want—returned to the Underworld's depths. Orpheus lived out the rest of his life, his songs made more beautiful with his sorrow, and died in depression and longing. Sad, ain't it?

A/N: 2—The River Styx is the river in Hades's Underworld where Charon ferries the souls of the dead to their eternal resting place.

A/N: 3—I just want to say poor Socrates and explain briefly why Meds used conium. Conium works very slowly—Socrates could walk for hours after he'd swallowed the poison hemlock concoction before his legs became paralyzed. Meds used enough that Peca 630 wouldn't die until around the time of the Visser's interrogation—slightly unrealistic that he'd survive a whole twenty-four hours, but let's pretend conium works even slower on Yeerks. It also has a mild numbing effect, so you only just notice that you're body is shutting down—Meds's wanted to be as merciful as he could with his buddy. He didn't use any quick-killing poisons because the visser might've suspected dirty work. In this case, he wanted the visser to think the stress and torment Peca 630 would feel killed him.

A/N: 4—Just FYI, Demeter mostly knows Greek/Roman mythology, and some scrap pieces of Norse and Egyptian. Sekhmet was a lioness monster who in early Egyptian legends killed and drank the blood of Ra's less admirable human children. She got out of control, so Ra got her drunk—no kidding—and tricked her into giving up her bloody, massacring ways. Ironically, she was renamed Bast and became a pretty nice goddess. Huh. Anyway, Demeter just thinks of Mercury as Bast when Vertigo becomes a sort of "crown" around her head—one of the popular embellishments pharaohs had on their headgear was a cobra of some sort.

A/N: 5—Atalanta was a very, very, _very_ speedy-footed girl in Greek mythology. So sure of her swift running, she challenged any man to a race with her: if h won the race, he could marry her, if not, he was put to death. Well, apparently Aphrodite got pissed that Atalanta kept putting her possible lovers to death and gave Hippomenes the golden apples of Hesperides. During the race, Hippo-boy had laid them out beforehand along the path and the girl kept stopping to gather them up. He won and got Atalanta as his bride.


	8. Aximili4

Oh my Lord! Three reviews! I'm so happy, you wouldn't believe! To you guys:

_**Weirdo**: Yeah, I was stumbling over Demeter's morph. Hyena, though, seemed to click (for now, he he)—mistaken for a dog, but really a cat, so an awesome oxymoron and the ruthless mind to get her butt into gear. I looked at the crocodile and Talon and the hippo-splitting-one-in-two thing came to mind. Yeah, I'm still thinking of how to write their reactions to the Chee, though Hollow may be excited about intelligent, alien puppies and their "friends", haha._

_**Woonko the Great**: Yeah, you're right. The stories updated on here were so much better a couple years ago. (sigh) However, Mrowrkat98, Qoheleth, and Electric Smile are extremely good writers. Check out theirs too. (But don't forget to review my chaps)._

_**Lokos griba:** Talon and Demeter's morphs may change later on, but I couldn't help it. Really though, hippos could rip a lion or crocodile apart. Before, I was going to make his a boar—beware the piggies! Haha_

A/N: Sorry this chapter is short compared to my others, but I have a research paper and essay to work on for the next two days. Also, how much can you really put in an escape-for-our-lives chappie? Enjoy and review!

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Chapter Eight: Escape

The Yarbezz strode toward us, pathetically slow with his colossal limbs and potbelly, but I had three eyes focused on the continuously shifting arms, becoming bladed tentacles, then razor-fanged mouths similar to the main one, then many-jointed, clawed limbs, as though unsure or unable to stay in one form in its excitement. I glanced at my the others with my other stalk eye, none of them appearing ready to confront such a creature. I myself only had a few minor cuts and gashes along my tail and sides, and even I doubted I could face the Sub-Visser and survive.

I shuddered. The only way any of us would live would be if someone attacked the Yarbezz-Controller while the others escaped down one of the tunnels intersecting this one.

Prince Jake glared swiftly at Demeter after she asked her only partly sarcastic question. (All of us could outpace that thing, but like that woman said, they could easily pick us off with Dracon fire,) he muttered grudgingly, his claws digging trenches into the packed dirt in his agitation. (And not all of us are prepared for another fight.) He sighed. (Talon, Hollow, and you guys, follow Marco and Tobias out of here. Rachel, Ax, we'll try to duck past that thing while they do. He's too eager to fight us for one of his guards to shoot us with Dracon beams.)

I instantly didn't anticipate this plan. Rachel's legs were beginning to tremble slightly under her weight, even as she growled in frustration and stood straighter, and Prince Jake's feline face grimaced and winced even as he stood still. The Yarbezz would disembowel them before they even came close enough to scratch or bite him.

(Yeah right. Dude, you don't even have any depth perception, One-Eye,) Mercury spat. (That thing'll chop you up and nibble on the pieces.)

(Prince Jake, let me fight it alone. If I can dodge those limbs, I can easily sever the head and escape while the guards go to his aid,) I said.

(No. That's just stupid and suicidal. Don't start thinking like Rachel,) Marco grumbled.

Rachel smirked at him. (Wimp.) She growled, (Well, what are we going to do then?)

The Yarbezz chuckled. "Are you Banditsss plotting sssomeding? If you demorph now, I'll let half of you live." He licked at some of his whiskers, grinning yellowed canines at us. "I dessspissse da tassste of Earth animalsss.)

(Hmph. He'll be a bit disappointed then if we do demorph,) Talon said.

Vertigo flicked his tongue nervously. (Can we start running now? Shut up and let's go!) His coils tightened anxiously around Mercury's throat until she gasped and snapped at him. (Well, then, come on…)

(This guy's a loud Screamer…) Demeter mumbled, her lower jaw quavering as her mane bristled and she stared fixedly at the Sub-Visser's face. (It's so sad. He's…oooh…) She shook her head, moaning in pain. (Hey…so that's why he's so big down there.) Her legs tensed up, her neck lowering.

(Um, Patches? What are you rambling about?) Talon asked.

(His stomach, his stomach! That's it!) Demeter suddenly exclaimed. (Aximili, Mercury, come on!) She broke into a charging lope, lips peeled back from her teeth.

(I think she's had a Screamer overload. Wait up!) Mercury called, falling into step behind the hyena. (What's the big deal about his stomach?)

As I galloped up on her other side, Demeter quickly summarized, (I'm not sure, but there's some kind of big organ in his gut that pumps a kind of mucus in his arms. Um…I'm pretty sure that if we bust it he'll keel over. I think.)

("I think". Lordie lords,) Vertigo moaned, still clinging to Mercury's neck. (You know, when I asked if we were going to run away, I thought it was actually going to be _away_ from this guy.)

"Isss thisss it?" Sub-Visser Six asked as we closed the distance between us, stopping in his tracks in amusement. His limbs—a pair of whips ending in blades similar to mine and dotted with eyes for some reason—sliced at Demeter and me. I leapt to the side, the limb burying itself into the earthen floor. Demeter yelped and I saw that one of her forepaws was gone, leaving a bloody stump pouring copiously onto the ground.

The others—Prince Jake, Tobias, and the rest—had slipped into a side tunnel, avoiding the few Dracon beams burning and evaporating the walls and floor. (As your Prince, I have one order for you, Ax,) Prince Jake said. (Don't—under any circumstances—die.)

Mercury hissed as Demeter stumbled on her criplled leg and sprinted at the Yarbezz, crouching under his swinging limbs and buried her fangs and claws into one of the massive legs. However, the red fur was excessively thick and dense, and most of her efforts reaped paws and mouthfuls of hair. She spat it out, ready to bite again, but jumped off, narrowly missing the Yarbezz's own normal head snapping at her haunches. She fell into a tangle of Hork-Bajir and human-Controllers, and her yowls of fury quickly changed to shrieks of panic and desperation.

(Mercury!) Demeter cried, trying to aid her friend, but one of the Yarbezz's limbs struck the area between her and she skidded to the side, snarling. (Dammit! Aximili, gut this bastard!)

FWAPP! I blocked one of the Yarbezz's blows with my tail, my blade cutting thinly into the Sub-Visser's—a small consolation as the limb split into three, one for each of its blades. I swore a few words I'd picked up from Rachel and lashed out at one, only for the other two to chop mockingly at my forelegs. The wounds weren't deep, only a reminder that the Sub-Visser thought my attacks futile. I glared at the insult and edged closer to the thing's portly stomach.

(Ah!) Demeter exclaimed as one of the limbs scooped her up from underneath and tossed her towards the handful of its guards. Her teeth crunched into a Hork-Bajir's hand as she tumbled to the ground, but two more cut into her from each side. Mercury, drenched in blood and her fur patchy, with Vertigo aiming at any and all of her attackers, dive-bombed Demeter's face.

The Yarbezz hissed at them, "Leave dossse dwo alive. We need at leassst one do ssshhhow usss do da morphing cube, you dapsssensss." Even as he said that, I weaved and ducked from his attacks, unable to creep close enough to cleave at his stomach. He snorted, having predicted my intent. "Keep trying, Andalite. Perhapsss you'll nick my stomach. Hsss. I'm ssstarting do dire of disss."

I stooped as low as my legs would allow, his next swing sailing above my eyestalks, and swung my tailblade, severing the limbs just where the bladed fingers connected. The stump didn't bleed, but sealed and receded towards the shoulder blade. I got to my legs and dashed toward the space between his fore and hind legs. The other limb, however, without Demeter to preoccupy it, turned and shot at me, embedding it into my hindquarters, digging into the muscle of my right leg.

My eyesight seemed to sway and tilt, as pain became a scorching message imprinted into my brain. I stepped to the side, hoping to dislodge the blades, but the limb was already morphing, the blades melting into clawed, barbed fingers that refused to budge. I swung my tail haphazardly, as one of the fingers was now tearing into the tail muscle, and I scraped a chunk of flesh from the limb.

"Disss hossst isss asss insssatiable assss a Taxxon and you ssseem deliciousss," the Yarbezz taunted, spittle gleaming on the fur around its mouth. It opened its maw and lapped at the blue blood spilling into a puddle and soaking into the earth. "Very good," the Yarbezz purred.

I remembered when my human friends had hesitated when I asked how Elfangor had died and Tobias finally explained that Elfangor had fought even as the Visser finally consumed him. I wasn't going to die that same way! I aimed my blade not at the bulging stomach that convulsed as the wounded limb regenerated, nor at the limb curling inside my leg, but at one of the legs supporting the Yarbezz as he licked greedily at the blood saturated ground. FWAPP! Unlike Mercury's teeth or claws, my blade cleanly sliced through muscle and fur, severing the leg off from the knee.

"HYYYYEEEAAH!" the Yarbezz howled and in its moment of distraction, its limbs dissolved and twisted, losing shape and strength. I wrenched my leg away from its grasp, my nostrils sucking in large intakes of air, and ran/staggered away. The Yarbezz wrapped its morphing limbs around the wounded leg, squeezing against the blood flow as his massive body crumpled to the side and he growled in frustration.

Hork-Bajir and humans lay scattered across the earth in varying degrees of death and unconsciousness. Mercury lay motionless beside a brown-skinned human and female Hork-Bajir, a bloody gash on her head but I was relieved to see her sides rising and falling, her eyes cracked open into slit. A human-Controller turned his attention away from the group of people tearing mercilessly at Demeter, the hyena biting and scratching and kicking, and aimed at the jaguar's broad skull.

I went forward and dispatched him, his unconscious body toppling over. Mercury winked up at me and muttered, (My hero. Go figure.) She chuckled dryly.

Demeter was still interlocked in battle with the Controllers and I could also see Vertigo jerking his head at them, even though he'd used up his poison sacs, using the movement just to keep the Controllers from circling behind the hyena. I ran up behind her foes and struck the back of their skulls. Demeter, saliva and blood frothing around her jaw, savagely tore apart the last attacker, and I felt a twinge of sympathy for the screaming Hork-Bajir.

(We have to get out of here,) I said flatly, glancing around us. Most of the Controllers were motionless, save for the movement of breathing, and the Yarbezz's limbs were morphing into new deadly shapes as he spat curses at us. (Demeter?) Instead of an answer, the hyena had growled at me and before I could dodge, made a lunge at my upper torso, biting my forearm. (Demeter!)

The hyena clenched my arm tighter, then blinked and released me, gagging. (I'm sorry! I'm sorry! There's so much screaming! The hyena too over while I was fighting.) She trembled and whined, licking my arm apologetically. (Aximili, most of these guys are dead and I can still hear them! I can't shut them out!)

I didn't know how to handle the girl's strange talent's quirks and didn't have any time to console her. However, I could see that the stump on her foreleg had done its damage and she swayed at she stood, her eyes somewhat unfocused. (You have to demorph or you'll die.)

She shook her head. (The Sub-Visser's watching and some of the other Screamers are starting to wake. They'll see me! Jake and Rachel said that the Screamers couldn't know their human. Don't worry. I'm fine.)

(You've lost too much blood,) I said, and sighed. (I'll morph a polar bear while you hide behind demorphing and remorphing the hyena.) She hesitated, but nodded as my body simply began to expand, sinking over my legs as blubber and flesh and thick, clear fur covered me in layers. I'd rarely used Nanook—the name of the bear the Animorphs and I had acquired on the northern pole of Earth—since I preferred my own body for battle and there had been an unfortunate incident involving the morph when Rachel had taken charge of the team in Prince Jake's absence, but the polar bear could move extremely fast and was as powerful as Rachel's grizzly.

Demeter hid underneath my swelling abdomen and started demorphing, her fur pattern becoming mismatched and her muzzle receding into her face. My own morph continued to simply grow in size, until I was an ivory, ten-foot-tall Andalite, then my face split into halves for the large snout and my tail dwindled away. My arms disappeared and my hooves cracked and emerged and reshaped into deadly claws. By this time, the surviving Controllers were stirring awake, mostly by the Sub-Visser's frantic screams and shouts—as lethal as his limbs were, they could not stretch as far as where Demeter, Mercury, Vertigo, and I were, and without one of his legs, he couldn't stand because of his ungainly weight.

(Aximili… You're squashing me,) Demeter grumbled, whining slightly. I moved aside as she crawled away, her hyena body completely restored with only a few patches of chipping, dried blood. (Vertigo, climb on. Aximili, you get Mercury.)

I picked Mercury up gently in my mouth, as one of the Hork-Bajir had sliced open her spine and her hind legs were limp. She hissed slightly, but didn't voice any complaints. I looked at Demeter, who was an unclear picture in the bear's weak vision. (Just keep running until we reach the entrance we came in through.)

(Oh, God, I'm going to be sick,) Mercury mumbled as my ungraceful loping had her rising and falling in my jaw. (Just let me crawl out! I can't even stand being in cars!)

(Sorry, love, but we can't. Running for our lives and all that nick nack. You're too screwed up right now to even limp out, so enjoy the ride,) Vertigo said reassuringly.

Mercury grumbled something incoherently in thought-speak.

Using the bear's and hyena's keen sense of smell, we followed the faint odor of the lead-like, oily liquid of the Pool, along with the overwhelming stench of Hork-Bajir, humans, and Taxxons. Demeter halted as the screams and cries of the temporarily free hosts grew in volume, but I nudged her forward, hoping she wouldn't break down when we reached the area. If that happened, all four of us were doomed, simply because of the overwhelming number of Controllers.

The end of the tunnel's flickering, dim light became bright and steady, and I almost gagged at the sickening smell of the Pool and the Yeerks swimming inside—a very disturbing sensation, as I usually didn't have a mouth. A Hork-Bajir-Controller jerked back, shouting something about the Sub-Visser—apparently the Yeerks had thought the Yarbezz would've slaughtered us easily.

Tseew! A stinging burn pricked my shoulder, but I shrugged and kept running, lowering my head so Mercury was partially shielded between my forelegs. Tseew! Tseew! I twitched my nostrils at the scent of singed, crispy fur, glancing at Demeter to be sure she kept pace beside me, close enough that I could barely see her eyes wide with terror and torment.

(God, all these Screamers…) she moaned.

(Dem, you can chug down one of Hollow's pill bottles after we get the fuck out of here,) Vertigo said.

Everything around us moved in colorful blurs swathed with the gray background of the cavern's walls, the beams of Dracon fire dazzling the bear's weak eyesight, and I hoped Demeter remembered the location of the entrance, as they would all smell the same: damp earth, stale concrete, and the remnants of Taxxon meals. Demeter nipped my snout as I started to turn the wrong way and I followed the hyena toward the welcoming darkness of a tunnel. The pursuit of our enemies' shouts and footsteps tailed us and I growled in frustration as a sudden thought occurred to me.

(Demeter! The Gleet Biofilter!) I shouted, then roared as more fiery sensations hit my rump—not a difficult target considering it took up most of the space of the tunnel's width.

(Damn! Shit! What do we do then?) Demeter whined in dismay. (Either get fried or shredded by some pissed off Controllers or choke on filter fumes. What do we do?) she repeated desperately.

(Demeter, Axie, Mercury, someone think up something! I can see the entrance up ahead!) Vertigo snapped. (Fry or choke, what'll it be?)

A Hork-Bajir dashed up behind me, slashing at my heels, tearing though fur and fat. I growled and kicked at it, sending the Controller flying into the crowd behind us. Another took its place, ripping open new cuts in my thigh. I set Mercury down on the ground, the jaguar hissing slightly, and gave the hole leading up into the tiny stall a forlorn glimpse. I turned around, rearing up almost to my full height, my shoulders and head scraping loose dirt off the ceiling of the tunnel. I bellowed and my attackers shrank back, hands falling to their Dracon beams, a triumphant gleam in the eyes closest to me.

(One of you demorph! My bulk's blocking their viewpoint. When you get through, smash the Biofilter with any large objects lying around. The machine is very fragile and will break easily under force,) I said quickly, grunting as I made short, sudden charges at the Controllers. (It will set off an alarm, but…)

(Too late for that,) Mercury said, snickering bitterly. (I'll do it. This kitty's spent.) Behind me came the sound of crunching bones, gurgling organs, and the odd pulling-a-hoof-out-of-mud squishing of flesh expanding or diminishing makes. (Dem, help Ax. Hey, where are my clothes—) Her thought-speak went suddenly.

(Lost in Z-space, I assume,) I said, in no mood to deal with human issues concerning bodily shame and artificial skins. I smashed a Controller headlong into a wall. (I ask that you please hurry. This body will not endure much longer.)

A shuffling noise and the sound of hands grasping a smooth surface, slipping slightly, signaled her leave. Demeter bounded forwards, snapping at heels and knees, with Vertigo wrapped tightly around her, wriggling in exhaustion and panic.

(Are all your fights this bad?!) Vertigo asked.

(Only eighty-five percent of the time, though Marco believes it to be one hundred,) I said.

(Wun-deer-feel,) Vertigo grumbled.

From up above, I heard something scraping against the ground as Mercury dragged it, accompanied by swearing grunts, and that changed to smashing and shattering and Mercury's frustrated, wordless outbursts. Soon after, a ringing, piercing noise screeched through the tunnel and I grinded my teeth against the din. I glanced behind, seeing the brown blur of Mercury's hand beckoning us out. "Come on!"

Demeter yelped as a Dracon beam burned off one of her circular ears and she loped towards the opening, leaping several feet straight up, her forelegs scratching the bathroom stall's tile floor while her back legs kicked and searched for a foothold. I backed up away from the Controllers and pushed her up with my head. She yipped with the expected momentum and left the stall, calling me to follow.

I picked up one Controller that had come close enough in range of my claws and hurled him forward, knocking several of his companions over. I glanced up and frowned. The square hole was barely large enough for my shoulders to fit through. I crouched down and pushed upwards, smashing my body against the ceiling, dirt and loose pebbles cascading around me. I snorted dust from my nostrils and rammed it once again, hearing a loud crack and the thin section of stone and soil separating the tunnel from the stall collapsed.

Hork-Bajir and human-Controllers cried out and shrank back as far as they could from the tumbling foundation. Panting, I pushed my head, then the rest of my form, through the now much wider opening, grasping the brittle floor of the stall—hat remained of it—with hooked claws and scrambled out into the open air. The scents of garbage, exhaust fumes, and humanity' other filthy excrement smelled almost pleasant compared to the Yeerk Pool, the Yarbezz, and burned and bloody beasts and Controllers. The stall enclosed most of my enormous bear morph, but the walls easily came down as I tore and crushed them, shoving the fragments into the tunnel—it would take the Yeerks a minute or two to clear the rubble.

The others were scattered around me, trying to regain their bearings. Demeter stood slouching against a Dumpster, sides heaving and her face crimson from the missing ear's bleeding, with Vertigo drooping like a limp noose off her head, tongue flicking agitatedly. Mercury leaned against a brick wall, annoyance scrawled across her face, shivering with one arm wrapped around her chest and another below her waist.

Her teeth chattered slightly as she talked. "I'm so-oo-oo fucking pah-pissed you-ew wouldn't believe. F-f-fuck. I need a ces-cigarette and a fucking jacket or sa-sa-something. This-is is embarrassing. When did it get so cold out?"

(Global warming, dear. And Dem's a girl, I'm gay, and Axie's an alien, so we don't care,) Vertigo sighed, jerking as a _tseew, tseew_, sounded below us. (Let's get feathery, people. A bear, dog, and nudist aren't going to get far around here.)

As the Controllers finally emerged from the pile of rubble I'd blocked the entrance with, four birds lifted off and flapped at a speed a Garatron would've been amazed at—well, maybe not, but close enough. Just another human exaggeration I'd attempted.

(No one tell Talon about that,) Mercury said sheepishly. (He already rants about my night job enough.)

I almost snorted. _Humans._


	9. Demeter5

I almost fainted when I saw the number of reviews. (blows face with paper fan) Well, anywho, thank you all—especially MTGB for FINALLY reviewing after the review drought, haha—for the reviews:

_**Mind the Green Bits**__: I have given Ax a really pissed off streak, huh? And yeah, there shall be conflicts. Lots of Ax (obviously, what with half the chaps being in his POV), but there'll be some clashes between Dem's crew and Jake, Rachel, and maybe some others like Erek. IDK. Still brainstorming._

_Same here with hyenas. Female dominance baby! Haha Yeah, hippos are pretty dangerous. Did you see the documentary where a hippo girl tried to nibble on a croc during a drought? WTF?_

_Yeah, after I put up Chap. 8, I thought, "Oh CRAP! Should've had Jake or Rachel with 'em, too. Even it out a bit." So, that partly led to how this chapter was written. This and the next chapter will build on relationships (or shatter them) between the two groups. Jake and Talon… Believe me, I'm working on that future fight. Hehheh_

_**Weirdo**__: First question—The Yarbezz's biology will appear in later chapters—you know, the Animorphs wanting to know how to fight it and such—but I can give you the basic idea sequence. Basically, I wanted to make my own alien, one controlled by our favorite Visser's style, and thus had to be a big baddie. He's really a fusion of sea lion/brontosaurus, with the morphing limbs added for raze style. Second question—This chapter gives a bit of how they met up, simply to build character friendships and such. Third question—Probably Vertigo or Mercury. Don't know how I'd fit a shopping scene in though. Just have to wait and see._

_**Woonko the Great**__: If that book hadn't been in Ax's POV, it would have simply pissed me off. Cassie basically says the mission was a fluke. Argh. Anywho, Marco's going to have yet another suicidal mission next chapter: Driver's Ed._

_**GO2 NO2**__: There'll probably be a sequel. (Otherwise there'll be too many chapters in this one)._

_**Congoi**__: Probably._

A/N: Sorry about the delay. It involved out of town graduation/prom parties, too much booze, finals (this Tuesday and Wednesday—pray for me), tests, job searching, and banquet for my swim team. All of which are very distracting, especially drunkenness. Ugh. Plus, there was another version of this chapter, but after Mind the Green Bit's review, I thought it didn't have enough mingling because canon characters and OC's.

A/N: This chapter has a minor bit of creationism versus evolution. Yes, I am a creationist (Lutheran/Protestant to be exact) and evolution has quite a few cracks in its theories. But I'll get into that later (possibly an argument between Ax and Meds, or something). In fact, be warned: LOTS OF CONTROVERSY AND DEBATE! Besides creationism/evolutionism, there's cloning, stem cell research (not exactly baby slicing, but it touches the topic), and some other twists and turns. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

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Chapter Nine: Purpose

Three days had passed since Talon and the Hork-Bajir had rescued me. The bandages on my arms positively, fricking itched like crazy, and when Talon and Meds weren't looking, I bit at them like a rabies-infected dog. The Screamers had spread out the search for me and for the time being, Meds had declared the abandoned apartment too risky, as it was too close to a couple Yeerk Pool entrances. However, now I sat edgily in a living room kind of area, except it was located where the basement would normally be, with two of the walls covered in bookshelves and assorted cabinets full of disks and other material—apparently the Screamer was a natural packrat. Or slug, I figure.

I perched irritably on the end of a chair, ignoring the plushy texture of the cushion, even though it was the first pleasurable thing I'd sat on in months compared to tiny cages and dissection tables. Talon leaned nonchalantly against the opposite wall, so still except for the rhythm of breathing and the calm ripple of his aura. At his feet sat a Latino girl and effeminate boy that called themselves "Mercury" and "Vertigo", just as testy as me, but simply out of shock and surprise.

Meds himself sat at a desk, tapping away at the keys of a laptop with rapid clicks—he'd told me that Screamers preferred the human design of computers, as Andalites mostly commanded theirs with thought-speak. Lying sprawled lazily on the floor, somehow not stabbing himself in that position with his own blades, a Hork-Bajir gazed intently at me, with intelligence and curiosity in those red eyes. I bit my lip, as he was making me uncomfortable, bringing up images of blood and anger and making my bandages pester me further.

"Hey, Meddie," Vertigo said offhandedly. "You said that you wanted us away from anywhere the Yoorks—"

"Yeerks," Talon spat.

Vertigo sighed. "Whatever. You know, you could be nicer. Mercury and I were the ones who found you in that alley and—okay, stop glaring. Anywho, incognito is the word. Stay out of Yeerk territory and yadda yadda. Why the hell are we here? Didn't you say one of your hallways leads to an entrance?"

Despite his smooth demeanor, I could tell Meds had grown impatient towards the two prostitutes. Unfortunately for him, Talon had refused to help him with anything unless he let the two on in the whole invasion deal and gave them his semi-protection. "Visser Three isn't going to search the residences of his highly trusted devotees, especially one who's in charge of the welfare of his host, Alloran. Plus, the entrance can only be used by my associates and myself."

"Still, come on," Mercury argued. "No low-ranking slug could've sprung Talon and patchy-skin girl over there without being caught by now. And why would those Andalite whoevers that've been holding off V-Three's mission waste their time on a couple hosts?" Except for the skin comment, I didn't mind the girl. She seemed to be catching on really quick to the invasion ordeal.

"Visser Three isn't exactly a big thinker and he's got a huge grudge against the Bandits," Talon grunted. "Hmph. If the Pool's low on Kandrona rays, the Bandits busted a generator. If he's stinking and purple, it's the Bandits' fault. Well, actually, it was, so he probably isn't far off the mark." He snorted. "And the Yeerk Resistance has its roots connected to one of the Andalites."

The Hork-Bajir chuckled, a weird, rasping sound that made me shrink a little farther into the chair. "You have to admit, that was hilarious. Purple as a female he was!" He jerked his head back at me. "Now, do you know why Irey went to all the trouble of freeing you, little human?"

His aura wavered, becoming nearly solid, building up with anticipation, ready to remind me anyways. May as well let him have his moment. "My good looks?" I joked. Mercury and Vertigo broke into laughter and even Talon managed a small smirk.

The Hork-Bajir arched his brow in amusement. "Not exactly…" He glanced at Meds. "You didn't tell her? That's a bit much to forget to do."

Meds rolled his eyes. "I did, but she, like the rest of her race, have an addiction to sarcasm. Shut up, Richard! I'm not patronizing!" He cleared his throat, running a hand through his brown hair. I was still a bit bemused by a Yeerk that argued openly with his host and the others simply seemed freaked out. He rose from his seat and indicated for me to do likewise. "Come with me. The rest of you stay here." Vertigo made a pouting face, but didn't bicker.

The image blurred and cleared in quick succession, and I realized this was merely a dream, but I didn't fight the memory, as nothing cruel or painful lurked in its contents, a rare find in my cerebrum. Meds strode down a hallway, with the Hork-Bajir and me in tow. I couldn't tell visibly, but I could tell by the slight tilt in my walk that we headed for something even further under the earth.

I turned to the Hork-Bajir. "So, who are you? You don't have a, eh, another mind, er, Yeerk, I guess." I blushed, knowing how much that sounded like gibberish, but he seemed to get the point. "I mean, you're not a host. Are you a Seer? I've heard of them from the Hork-Bajir-Controllers."

He dipped his head in a nod. "Yes and no. I'm free as you, but I'm not one of the Arn's flukes." He scratched idly at his beak. "At least, not in the usual manner. My DNA pattern flows along the same lines as most of the other Hork-Bajir." He pointed at Meds, who mostly ignored our conversation. "He told you about the research he's doing on Yeerk mucus, correct?"

"A little," I said. "Why?"

"I'm one of his…I guess you could say 'voluntary test subjects'. I took concentrated doses of that material in shots for my first two months of life. The enzymes repaired the part of my brain that the Arn destroyed in my ancestors." His tail swished and his frame slumped at my slow comprehension. "I think you could call me an artificial Seer."

"Huh. Why did he do it?" I asked.

He lowered his face close to my ear, his emerald green beak a blur in my peripheral vision. "If he wants to ever negotiate with the Andalites, he has to have proof of his findings. No matter how much medical research you have on file, nothing's better than living proof of your findings." He chuckled. "He also wants to see the effects I could have on other Hork-Bajir."

"What? They fall to their knees and worship you cause of your higher I.Q.?" I asked.

He pecked at my left arm with a clawed finger and I yelped at the brief flare of pain. "Don't speak of belittling of my people. You talk no better than the majority of Yeerks," he growled in sudden anger, his aura rubbing mine raw with resentment.

"I' sorry, I'm sorry," I begged and his mood lightened and his crimson orbs no longer seemed so menacing. "Well, what did you mean?"

He grinned. "If I take a mate, my child has a forty-three percent chance of congenital mental clarity." The Hork-Bajir snapped his beak at my partially confused expression. "They'll have the same level of intelligence as any Andalite or human. Possibly smarter, if most of your race thinks as slowly as you."

I curled my lip at the insult, wanting to bury my fist in his scaly abdomen, but wary of those blades along his arms, legs, head, and tail. Still, it brought up a story from my childhood, one of the many myths of the Greeks, the stories that had safeguarded my sanity during my time in the nuthouse and Screamer's incarceration. Matter of fact, the Hork-Bajir did have an ancient and Titan-like look to them. "What's your name?"

He seemed a bit puzzled at that. "Who cares about that?" He groaned when I refused to stray from topic. "Fine. CD-Five."

"What? What kind of name is that?!"

"Carbon Design. Five, since Meds's other four tests didn't reap enough positive results," he explained. "He didn't have a pure enough chemical compound and so, didn't supply enough of the Yeerk's stem cells to repair their brains."

The idea of slug slime used to enhance astuteness still unnerved me, so I kept to the original question. "That's ridiculous. I can't call you that," I snapped, and he appeared taken back by my unexpected flash of annoyance. "How about… Hm. Well, you're supposed to spread knowledge with your genes and Meds's slime to your kind. Have you heard any human mythology? Like the Greeks? How about Prometheus?"

His eyes widened after a minute. "Meds's host told me a few… Wait, isn't that the person who was tied to a rock and had his insides eaten by a bird? You humans are Taxxons without the appetite. Disgusting."

"Well, he was rescued by a guy named Hercules," I pointed out. "Prometheus brought fire and intelligence to the human race in the story."

He sighed. "Pro Metheus, then. You could be…Demeter? That earthy woman?"

"Why her?" I asked.

"Well, for one, you look like you're splattered in dirt and mud, human," he joked, but didn't continue with the jibe as my expression dropped. "Don't take it to the heart, human." He snorted at my easily shaken pride and gripped my shoulder in his scaly hand. "I don't know any of the others—"

Meds turned around and gave us a quizzical stare. "Pro Metheus and Demeter? An unnatural Seer and psychic are myths of a sort. Notice anything, Demeter?" He had stopped beside a flat and uninteresting section of wall. I hadn't noticed how far we'd walked apparently, as the smooth tiled hallway had shifted into rock and soil. However, if I peered closely at the wall he pressed his palm against, I could barely make out an indent the height of a Hork-Bajir and four feet wide, the corners hidden by cracks that crisscrossed the stone.

"Is that a door?" I asked. Judging by the swell of approval in his aura, I had guessed right. ""What's in there?"

Meds grinned. "It's not what, but who. Behind this is the person who, along with you and Pro Metheus and the Yeerk Resistance, shall end the—"

Meds's rounded, delighted face and Pro Metheus's red-spotted, broccoli green head rippled, stretching out of position as the rest of the scene dimmed and grew quiet. I grasped desperately with nonexistent fingers, tangling them into the loosening threads of dream fabric, but reality and consciousness swooped down upon me, plucking me mercilessly from sleep. I groaned, feeling the dusty, hard floorboards underneath me, realizing I lay back in the apartment.

I rubbed the grit from my sockets, sight still bleary when I heard a dull thud to my right and I stiffened. Another thump and suddenly I had a furry, wiry form rolling over my stomach and onto the floor. Mind groggy with sleep, I blinked a couple times and watched the orange-and-white feline streak across the room, tail held high. "You've got to be the clumsiest cat I've ever seen," I mumbled.

Ears twitching, the feline spun on its heels and raced back at me in retaliation, leaping and punching sheathed paws at my raised arms. (And you're a big, slow sleepy lump, Dem.)

I yelped and tossed the cat away from me. The cat hissed and spat as it dropped to the ground—on all fours—giving the pissed off look only its species could muster. And then I remembered the events two nights ago: the Andalite, the morphing, Peca's failed rescue attempt, the escape. "Hollow? Oh no." Had I really been a part of that? It still seemed INSANE. No exaggerating on the capitals.

(Yoo-hoo, Dem. Wakie, wakie. Stop zoning out,) Hollow sang out, nipping my hand with tiny, pearly white teeth. (You have to morph a cat. Have to! So graceful and sleeky and pretty! I am Simba!)

"Simba's a lion," I said.

(And a lion's a kitty,) she retorted. (Now sh. I have to practice.)

"Practice what?" I asked, laying back against the floor and pulling the smelly, patchy green blanket further up toward my chin.

(Getting control of the animal brain. Axie and Jakie said if we practice, it'd get easier.) Her ears flicked. (I uh, accidentally took a bite out of Rachel when I went polar bear. _Buuut_ she was a grizzly. Very hard to ignore. Next time we get into a tussle with the Screamers, I'll be ready even with the instincts.)

Another shudder crept over me. "Wait, wait. Next time? Hollow, don't you remember how we almost, I don't know, died?" For a few seconds after I had fought some of the Sub-Visser's guard and saw Mercury's limp shape, I had thought as much. "I mean, we were all pretty screed up. Mercury got crippled and Talon—"

(And Axie almost got eaten and Jakie lost an eye and Tobias almost got munched and crunched and burnt a few times,) Hollow reminded me, creeping up behind her stuffed crocodile, each step calculated. (They've been fighting a long time and still alive too.) Pounce! Bite! The plushy enemy brought down, fangs sank into the neck. (They need help. Six against an empire isn't fair, but eleven, well, it's still not fair.)

"Hollow!" I groaned. "Did you forget what I just said? You, anyone, could've been killed!" I was almost glad to have finally said that and hoped it registered as something serious to her. Yesterday I hadn't had the chance, as the Animorphs had spent hours giving us the situation of Earth—Talon and I had shared a glance at that, but Mercury, Vertigo, and Hollow had listened intently, the limits of morphing—it had shocked Vertigo that if a person died in morph, he didn't just demorph and press restart on life, and taken us to a theme park-slash-zoo called The Gardens. We'd acquired what they considered the "basics", besides our aerial and battle animals: fly, cockroach, and flea, for spying and hiding; dolphin, for aquatic missions; seagull, the inconspicuous flyer.

Of course, when we'd returned to the apartment last night, Vertigo and Mercury had immediately run off, either to gather up more morphs or chatter to each other about it at Illusions. Talon had left to go fill Meds up-to-date about our connection with the "Andalite Bandits". Hollow didn't even stop here, but had continued testing the thermals, what remained of them at night, with her powerful goshawk's wings.

She padded over to me and sat sphinx style, green eyes staring narrowly into mine. Her usually unpredictable emotions cemented into somber, delicate thought. (You were the one who volunteered the rest of us. You zoomed in as a birdie and our new comrades carried us off as rats. We fought and bit and scratched, and now we're Animorphs. We can't leave them now.)

I chewed my lower lip, peeling off loose skin. "You're right, but…" I shook my head, knocking off my loose, ragged toboggan, and curly, reddish hair blocked my sight. "Well, I'll keep fighting. I know how Visser Three is and if I'm captured, I can't become a Screamer. And if I'm…" My tongue twisted and refused to say, "killed".

(Screamer? You don't want to go near that Pool again, do you? Vert told me how crazed you were. Gone totally loopy,) Hollow said, striped tail swishing from left to right. (Well, none of us do, but it helped.) Her claws scratched the wood beneath us, digging holes into it. (I'm not scared of death.)

"That's a stupid thing to say," I muttered. "Why?"

(I am a little, I think, but they had kiddies in those cages. Alien and human kiddies, Dem! They were curled up and calling for their mommies. You heard them, didn't you?) Hollow said, her face stretching and fur disappearing as her paws and shrinking tail reached for the floor. (They're parents might not even know they're Screamers! It's sick!)

I thought of when we'd entered the Pool, the cages lining the walls in neat, identical order, with Hork-Bajir and humans mere puppets with their strings cut, waiting as their masters swam placidly in the Pool. Then as we'd fought, I'd heard the screams and saw the release of souls and felt the pain of my foes, especially that awkward looking creature, the Yarbezz. In the brief glimpses I got of his surface thoughts, I had felt a longing for a planet of luscious, scarlet swamps and steamy, stormy weather. Free will. People took it for granted twenty-four/seven, but those poor souls couldn't even blink or breathe for themselves.

Hollow reached a pale hand toward me, fingers clasping my wrist. I stared blankly at the cobalt blue veins spread like ivy on brickwork along her arm. "Got to have some scars after you're burned, Dem. Those kiddies were just so gloomy and depressed and—"

The door knocked loudly as someone banged their knuckles against its frame outside.

I jerked back in surprise and guardedness, almost tripping over into Hollow's lap as my legs tangled with the blanket. Adrenaline surged through us, the hackles on my neck prickling and breathing speeding up, sending up the flag for fight-or-flight. Talon, Vertigo, and Mercury never knocked, just slipped or barged right in. Other than them, not a lot of good Samaritans came knocking on your door out here in the decrepit part of the city. Drug addicts and gangs and psychos could bust in, ready to kick your ass out or rape you or set you on fire or stab you or a dozen other sadistic options. Considering it was day outside, I doubted most of them, but enough remained to keep me edgy. Should I run? Fight? As human or hyena?

That entire thought went through my mind in two seconds before Hollow gripped me and whispered, "Check 'em."

Oh, right. Sometimes I amaze myself. I reached out, gently brushing against the aura, and barked out a laugh. "Come in!"

The door opened with its usually annoying creaky noise, like in B-rated horror movies where you can practically see the paint and rubber peeling off the zombies. Cassie and Rachel stepped in, squinting against the bleak lighting—Hollow searched for a candle stump and lighter—and stumbling over one of the piles of books Hollow must've knocked over in cat morph. A pair of oval-shaped, green-streaked objects hung from Rachel's hand.

"Why did you spray paint the windows?" Rachel grumbled, now more sure of her walk as she tiptoed through the tangle of tattered blankets on the floor to me.

"Don't want mean little thieves to peep through the windows and steal our stuff," Hollow said. "They think the building's condemned or that druggies deal their smack in here." A flick of a lighter and the candle she held sent a wavering, dancing glow across the room.

I brushed cigarette butts and some of Mercury's extra clothes away from me to clear a space for the dark-skinned girl. "Nice shoes." I could see that the mysterious objects were simply a pair of Converse's. "What brings you down here?" Did we already have another mission? How could the Animorphs remain sane? We'd barely escaped with our skins intact two days ago!

Cassie shook her head and said sheepishly, "You left your shoes in my barn."

It took a few seconds for that to register after I breathed a sigh of relief that no suicide battles were scheduled today. When I'd acquired the merlin falcon at the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center—Cassie's barn—the others had warned me prior to morphing that footwear refused to change properly. I'd tucked mine behind a raccoon's cage as my first morph had begun, and had completely forgotten about them till now. Instead I wore two mismatched, one size too big chunky sneakers I'd retrieved from a Salvation Army dumpster yesterday.

I raised an eyebrow. "Those aren't mine," I said bluntly.

"I tried to clean them in the washer and they disintegrated," Rachel said, wrinkling her nose. "I think the dirt was the only thing keeping them together! So, well, here's your initiation present as one of the newest Animorphs." She thrust the pair of sneakers into my hands. I rolled my eyes in amusement, but they did look like my size. I swapped them for my clumsy, SA shoes for them.

"Ooh, could I have a cat?" Hollow asked. "A brown one with stripes?"

"You just morphed a cat!" I said in exasperation.

"Yes, but I'd have someone to play with," Hollow argued. "They're such loyal animals."

"That's dogs, Hollow," Rachel corrected.

"Maybe, but cats are cleaner and they can catch the mice upstairs," Hollow said. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "Since I morphed a mouse, if I sic a kitty on them, does that make me a murderer?"

Rachel shrugged. "Ax and Tobias morphed steer, and I still eat hamburgers."

Cassie gagged slightly. "Unfortunately."

"After this whole thing, I'm against animal testing and ready to save the whales with you, but you can't completely convert the rest of us, Cassie," Rachel joked.

I smiled at their banter. It reminded me of Mercury and Vertigo, or Hollow and me, except I had a feeling they'd actually known each other most of their lives. I couldn't even remember any of my grade or middle school friends. I glanced over at Hollow as she started for the exit. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Going to find Vert and Mercury, see how they're doing with Marco, Axie and Tobias," she said and paused in midstep. She combed her red, blue, and green bangs away from her face and tucked the tangled strands behind her ears. "Vert said that Talon said that he needs to see you by that Frenchie food place. The one with a sign with a bunch of wine bottles—yuck. The, eh, Lunar Rouge, or something? Your Examiner friend is there." She left.

"Huh? We usually see that Screamer on Mondays and Tuesdays," I muttered, then almost smacked myself knowing it was Monday, what with the church bells ringing yesterday downtown. I raised an eyebrow at the two girls. "Are guys home schooled? Or just skippers?"

"Neither," Cassie said, which added to my confusion, even as I refrained from reaching meekly at her surface thoughts. That would be rude. And possibly Screamer-ish. "Jake is too." She held up her hand in defense. "It was my idea and my parents are going to kill me if they find out, but this was an emergency."

"Emergency? Do we need to get Talon and the others? Is Marco in trouble?" She hadn't mentioned him. Why were they so calm?

"Actually, _he_ is the emergency," Rachel said darkly.

"What?" Had he betrayed his friends? He'd had a cynical lining inside his aura beneath the humorous shell, but it hadn't felt threatening. Or was he hurt? Captured? A Screamer? How could Cassie and Rachel look so unflustered? Did this seriously happen every week, no, every _day_?

"He's taking his driving test," Rachel said, a look of real fear on her face.

Had he— "What?" I laughed. "That doesn't sound too bad. Not like he'll drive through a wall or take out pedestrians."

"You'd be surprised," Cassie said.

I snorted, wondering briefly if I would have been taking Driver's Ed and trying to get my license by now. Probably a point to the Screamers. I hated the idea of driving almost as much as Mercury hated sitting in a vehicle. Besides, there was the whole oil prices rising out of control, even I noticed that from walking past gas stations and listening to the swearing.

Rachel asked, "What did she mean by Examiner?" Her face didn't reveal anything, but I could sense the peek of interest in her aura.

I bit my lip, cursing mentally, but the two of them instantly caught my former gesture easily enough. I stared at Cassie's oak brown eyes and Rachel's azure blue irises, then lowered my gaze to the distorted pattern of white-and-brown along the ridges of my knuckles. One of Meds's personal jobs for me and a key component to the Yeerk Peace Movement…could I tell them? Cassie had voiced her approval in bits of conversation and Rachel seemed to have a lot of tolerance for the necessities of war… And yet… Ignoring the sour sensation in my stomach, I beckoned my two comrades to the door, ready to wedge my loyalty deeper into the Animorphs' trust and hopefully remain intact with my own towards Meds. Then we could… "Come on."

&/&/&/&/&/&

With companions who didn't spend their time snacking off garbage thrown or tuck onto the sidewalk like Skittles, I didn't have to spend so much effort subtly shifting the attention of passersby away from us. Instead, I watched their movements with side glances. It was somewhat disconcerting, walking with people who didn't either fade into the background of society like Talon, nor stroll with a purposeful and disdainful attitude, like Mercury. Not that they had some different step from the rest of the people going past us, but they were just…normal. Which to me was abnormal. If that makes sense.

Not a lot of civilians swarmed directly around us, so I slid closer to Rachel's side—Cassie was on her left, me on the right—and chanced in a whisper, "So, how did you first meet the Screamers? Was it all of you or one of you at a time?" Curiosity had pestered me the moment I'd met the entire group of morphers, how a bunch of humans not connected to an organized group such as the Yeerk Resistance could have formed, but I hadn't had a moment to spare with the mission and training.

Rachel shrugged. "We saw a UFO after we'd gone inside an abandoned construction site a couple years ago." She laughed. "We were more afraid of finding axe murderers instead of slug invaders, though."

"Was it a Screamer or one of the blue guy's cousins?" I asked.

"His brother," Cassie said, knowing I was referring obviously to Aximili, not Visser Three's host. We walked around a man in a tattered army jacket, holding his palm and mumbling. We waited until we'd put some distance between the guy, even though I had yet to find a Screamer hobo. "His name was Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul." I could practically see the respect they had for the guy. "His ship was damaged and he was mortally wounded. He told us the Yee—Screamers had invaded our world. Right before the Screamers found his ship, he gave us the ability to morph using the blue cube."

"Couldn't he have demorphed? That heals you up quick, right?" I asked. She'd already implied that the guy had met the benevolent side of fate.

A troubled look flared briefly on Rachel's face. "I guess he didn't think he had enough time. Or he was trying to buy us time. After we touched the cube, Visser Three's Blade ship and some Bug Fighters came down. We hid and escaped, but not before we saw the Visser…" Her voice broke into something like a frustrated snarl, and I knew that they had seen many atrocious acts committed by the bastard. "He ate Elfangor."

My stomach, that traitorous pouch of acid, wobbled at those words. I'd already almost seen Aximili get consumed by Visser Three's brother—must've been a trait in both families. "Were you all together? Why didn't Aximili help his brother leave with you and Jake and the others?" Aximili didn't seem like someone who'd abandon anyone, especially one of his own bloodline.

"We didn't meet him for about a month or two after that. With our luck, he happened to be stuck at the bottom of the ocean," Rachel said. "He greeted us with a Shredder and threatened to incinerate us after he stunned and dragged us into the Dome o his ship." She chuckled and I joined in, glad we'd left the subject of who gave them the morphing box.

"That must be a formal Andalite greeting," I mused. "I was scared he'd attack Hollow and me after we dragged him into the apartment and he woke up."

Screams roared in my head as we passed a family of three, the usual structure of father, mother, and grumpy preteen. I watched the three with interest, wondering as I had dozens of times why no one else heard them, even though I already knew the answer. I mentioned it to Rachel and Cassie, and the short-lived laugh we'd shared vanished. I listened as the parents and kid raved and ranted, following them absently into some miniature thrift shop, the kind with used, ripped jeans and oversized t-shirts for a buck. The girl shied away from her dad and mom, flipping through a rack of green tops varying in shade and design.

_Get out! Get out! I'll kill you! Shove you down a garbage disposal! Toast you over a fire! The moment I'm free, I'll…I'll…_

Hah! Keep holding onto your pitiful dreams, human. They're amusing! Should I replay your dog dying? Or your grandparents?

I shivered. One of the ways Screamers break their hosts is by delving into their memories and force-feeding the painful and/or embarrassing clips to the host. It only takes a massive and particularly agonizing ten-second experience to subdue the most defiant and arrogant human or Hork-Bajir. I'd seen and felt it happen hundreds of times.

I jerked my head at the seemingly passive girl. "Can you hear them?"

Cassie shook her head and Rachel scowled. The only physical sounds in the store were the clinking of hangers and scratch of fabric rubbing against each other, the nonsensical small talk of customers, the ring of the cash register, and the murmur and hiss of traffic outside. "Did you know where it came from when you first heard it?" Out of the six, Cassie had been the most acceptable Animorph considering the "weird vibes" I got, as named by Marco.

"Can't remember." That bit of time in my life sometimes blended on the exact details. After the screams started and before Meds, I barely knew up from down, right from left, with all the damn drugs the psych ward and Screams pumped me with. And the fear. Lots of that. "Started thinking I was that kid off _The Sixth Sense_. The dead and demons and what not trying to bicker at me."

The girl finally chose a murky green sweatshirt with some weird splotched pattern. Camo? Was she an army or punk freak? Or did the Yeerk just like the color, since it resembled his body markings? Screamers supposedly stick to their hosts' habits and personalities, but sometimes I wondered. No one really notices wardrobe changes. Or at least don't take them seriously enough. She wandered over to the cashier, hurriedly paying for the shirt and arguing with her mother when the woman saw it. Screamers keeping up appearances.

"We didn't realize how bad it was until after that night, we started picking up on some of the Controllers. A cop almost caught Cassie in horse morph and it turned out the vice principal of our school is a Controller," Rachel said.

"Must've been more fun T.P.ing and silly stringing his home on Halloween," I said.

The family unit left, silent except for the yelling between humans and Yeerks. Rachel dug her curled fists into her pockets, glaring at their backs, rage brewing around her and making me somewhat agitated. "You mentioned when you told us about your empathy and how the Yeerks caught you, that you spent at least a few months in their experiments. Drugs and torture and whatnot." We left the shop, continuing towards the direction of the Lunar Rouge. "Why are you working for a Yeerk now? That's ironic, don't you think?"

"He's different from the rest of them. He and Richard share the same amount of control in their body. Plus, he's the one who set up my rescue from my execution. Can't exactly hold that against him," I said, wincing from Rachel's still brooding gaze. I sighed. "Do you believe in higher purposes?"

"You mean like goals set by God?" Cassie asked, and I nodded.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Rachel asked in frustration.

Even as I opened my mouth, my memories condensed in my mind, until I not only walked with my new allies, but also sitting in Meds's basement, asking that same question.

"_What the hell does that have to do with anything?" I snapped, alone in the living room space except for Meds, who was once again at the computer, scheming and plotting for the resistance. "You're risking the lives of the Yeerk Peace Movement on a 'higher purpose'? What the hell is that supposed to mean, anyway?"_

"_Demeter, your very name comes from human mythology and many of your race bow to a religion of one sort or another," Meds said in that annoyingly serene tone._

"_I guess. I mean, I don't think humans came from fish-frogs or anything, but still! Are you saying you hear voices in your head?" I asked, and then blushed. "Maybe that comment shouldn't have come from me, but you know what I mean."_

"_I do know, and no, I've never heard any voices in my head besides those of Andalites and Leerans," Meds said, chuckling. His aura seemed to slacken and had a nostalgic feel to it. "Before the Andalites came to our world, we worshipped a deity we later called our source of nutrients and life: Kandrona. One of our beliefs was that during procreating, her soul mingled with the three Yeerks willing to die for the next generation and rewarded their sacrifice with new life. The Council of Thirteen had originally started to govern the Thirteen Laws, such as the Third: 'Honor your host with respect and dignity, as she/he offers freedom and awareness'. In Yeerk, 'Kandrona' used to mean 'Balance', rather than simply a food source."_

_I digested this with interest. I'd never heard anything about Andalite, Yeerk, Taxxon, or Hork-Bajir religions, assuming they had none besides the tribal beliefs of Mother Sky and Father Deep of the tree-loving Hork-Bajir. "Well, I haven't seen too many Screamers that treat their hosts with 'respect and dignity'."_

"_Part of the degradation of our society." Meds shook his head. "To you and other sentient beings, the Yeerk homeworld is a toxic, hostile planet, but we loved our world and Kandrona. We believed and reflected constantly on the Balance, as Her opposite was Chaos. However, we had no…challenges, you say. No temptations. Predators and the acidity of the atmosphere threatened us, but that was merely on a physical level. We were still in the Garden of Eden, if you will."_

"_What was the fruit?" I asked._

_He sighed. "Knowledge. What else? The Andalite Seerow came to our planet and offered knowledge without holding anything back. He taught us science, art, literature, mathematics, and so forth. Our physical disabilities—blind, deaf, mute—in our natural forms were balanced out with our mental acuteness. We became swollen with his teachings." He snorted, shutting off his computer and facing me. "Especially when he taught us 'natural selection' and 'evolution'. We shared with him our stories of Kandrona, and he tolerated our beliefs as though we were naïve children, but others among his group sneered at us. While those at least a few cycles old ignored their comments, the younger generations and a couple skeptics such as Akdor 1154 absorbed the Andalites' talk with glee."_

_I laughed, harsh and sharp. "The war between Andalites and Yeerks began because of that?"_

"_Don't rebuke like that, Demeter. Many wars on Earth started and continue today because of religious conflicts. No, it didn't necessarily start the war, but it helped," Meds spat. He glared at the dirt brown carpeting and paced. "It's all on a subconscious level, child. If Kandrona, the Balance, is merely our imagination, there are no absolutes, and thus no right or wrong. Strong take from the weak, survival of the fittest, no morals exist. To say Yeerks are cruel or Andalites are prejudiced is void._

"_And so, Laws such as the Third have no foundation. Why should we treat our hosts as equals? They serve only to give us eyes and ears and movement," Meds said, his aura almost venomous as it lashed across the room, stinging mine. I curled up in my seat, hugging my knees to my chest. "Why shouldn't we have the power and sight of Andalites? Of Hork-Bajir? Of humans? They are little more than working beasts to those who best them. If one proves incapable of its purpose, dispose of it and search for a healthier body."_

_I'd known Meds for two months then and had never seen him express his aggravation so vividly. During his short outbursts, I caught glimpses of what must have been the Yeerk homeworld, a place of swirling, greenish-yellow clouds streaked with lightning, of gray and brown and green vegetation and animal life, of warm, thick, slate-colored pools. It didn't sound like my idea of paradise, but it felt familiar and peaceful from Meds's thoughts. Along with those came tidbits of tales and lessons passed on through Gedd mouths and Yeerk squeaks/clicks of an entity that represented the Balance._

"_Did you stick by your Kandrona?" I asked, nerves tingling with anticipation._

"_I wish I had, but no. I was on the verge of abandoning the old morals, but that was before I found out about this." He went over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a plastic tube, filled with a clear, viscous liquid. "Perhaps… There still is a Balance. Our freedom from a complete dependency of the Kandrona rays for the freedom of the species we conquered. Andalite morphing technology for an unlimited amount of stem cells." He smirked at me. "You humans won't have to cut up fetuses anymore, either." He laughed as I grimaced at the thought of infanticide._

_I stared at the mucus. "Gotta love Moira and Kandrona for their curveballs o Fate. Ending the war with slug snot." I frowned, wondering how Pro Metheus, Odin, and I fit into the puzzle…_

"Slug snot?" Rachel said, and my cheeks flamed with embarrassment. It had seemed funny at the time. "Great. We're working with a religious fanatic. He's doing it because he had an epiphany over slime." I bit my lip to hold back a retort.

Cassie looked up at the sky, with puffy, white clouds scudding across a blue background. So different from the Yeerks' home. "I can't believe it. I thought the Yeerks were all agnostic."

I shrugged. "Most of them are now."

Cassie pursed her lips. "Who're Odin and Prometheus?"

I stiffened, the muscles in my arms and legs twisting like serpents in the middle of mating. Had I mentioned them? Yeah, offhandedly, but that didn't excuse the fact that I… Fine. No way to shove the question aside, I could feel Cassie and now Rachel's curiosity tickling the hairs along the nape of my neck. Well, may as well ask something to Balance it out.

I spotted the Lunar Rouge up ahead, with Talon lounging at the bottom of the steps leading to the entrance, a book clasped in his hands and skimming the pages. He would kill me if he heard me talk about Odin or Pro, but…somehow it seemed the right thing to do. I stopped beside the brick face of the bank we walked by, retreating a few steps into the alley between it and an apartment building. Rachel and Cassie shared a swift glance and followed after me. Trusting the gut impulse, I said, "I'll tell you, if you tell me… Who and what is Erek?"

"Oh boy, this is going to take awhile," Rachel said.

"Talon's not alert, so the Examiner didn't show up yet," I said. Cassie hitched an eyebrow. "Yeah, you want to know about her, too? Fine."


	10. Aximili5

To my reviewers:

_**JINX**__: Hollow has bipolar disorder (hence her "highs" and "lows" of mood that drive Demeter a little crazy), ADHD (restless and easily distracted, like on her little errands for Ax), and disorganized schizophrenia (only slightly, mostly because of her disorganized thinking and behavior). I'm thinking of writing something involving the Greek myths and religion, but I have yet to do it. (shrugs) If I do, I'll note in the one of the chapters of "Empath's Streets" or any stories that follow._

_**Weirdo**__: Both that and the dream in the first chapter were supposed to be italicized, but fanfic sometimes messes with my chapters. At least the story isn't affected, just the text. (wipes sweat off forehead) I personally love Pro, but I can't give him any major parts until at least Chapter Twelve or so on. Feh._

_**GO2 NO2**__: Don't worry about that! I'm thinking of doing a prequel for this too, as will be explained in the next paragraph. (points down)_

A/N: I'm thinking of doing a prequel to this, called, "A Sight of Blue", based on Irey 951's POV. I always liked the Yeerks (every Animorph extremist grabs a pitchfork and points it at me) and wanted to do a story that involved their world. ASOB would involve Irey and the other Yeerks early interactions with Seerow and the other Andalites, the aftermath of the Quantum virus's effects on the Hork-Bajir and the Yeerks in them, and the beginnings of the Earth invasion and Yeerk resistance. Special focus on the characters of Seerow, Aftran, and Esplin (before he got EXTREMELY eviiil). The chapters will probably only be about 1000 or 2000 words long, and less than 20 chapters in it. I'll need at least three of your—the reviewers'—votes on this. Let me know if you want it.

A/N: This, hopefully, will be the last chapter I struggle with and feel awkward about afterwards. Believe me, I got writer's block about three times, so this isn't my best work. (shrugs) This starts off as comic relief (Marco driving and such), so the first part was simple enough. However, I'm trying to keep to Mind the Green Bit's comment on how Dem and Ax's crews haven't interacted enough between each other, so here you go. Goes from funny to serious in three point five seconds. haha

A/N: This chapter is partially conceived of by my FEAR of driving a vehicle. Some things were inspired by nightmares, such as the songs on the radio. You have been warned.

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Chapter Ten: Surrounded by Crazy People

Voices. Mumbling. Grumbling. My head twitched, flicking from side to side, listening, wondering if those voices would soon form faces. No, no! I was safe. Somewhat. I hid underneath a canvas of dark fabric enveloping the branch I lay on, digging my claws into its smooth, hairy texture. I ignored the warnings sent from my tongue to my Jacobson's organ, which told me that the branch was made of human flesh. Ignore it. Panicking enough already. Focus.

Suddenly, the sky above me collapsed as an object pushed into it, smothering me. My heart started skipping beats and I opened my maw, ready to sink my sharp, sickle-shaped teeth into my attacker. It pressed into my side, and I struck! Through the fabric, I tasted the sweaty skin of human.

"Ax-man, cut it out! Do you have control of that lizard brain, yet?" Marco said, trying to pull his finger out of my jaws. I twisted my head to the side, but the hide was tough and wouldn't tear… I wrestled with the lizard and finally my Andalite thoughts overcame the banded gecko. Carefully, I released my hold.

(Yes,) I said meekly. The voices came from Tobias and Marco, both arguing about the situation. Despite his protest at Marco's plot, Tobias had reluctantly morphed human and carried me, as a lizard, into the school after I requested it a few times. My mind had been struggling with the gecko's fright for a few minutes, even when Marco shoved me up his sleeve.

"This is ridiculous. You could have at least studied for your exam like everyone else," Tobias said.

"Most of it, but c'mon. It's all a bunch of useless memorization. Stop and Yield. Why do we need two signs with the same meaning? And what idiot doesn't know that things get 'slippery when wet'? Just some boring that slips your mind when you sit down to take the stupid test," Marco complained. I clung tighter to his skin as he threw his arms up.

"Something tells me you only read one chapter," Tobias muttered. "And if it keeps you from even getting inside a car cause you flunk the test, I'm pretty proud of the American education system. Especially after all the crap we went through with you behind the wheel."

"I've never killed or injured anyone!" Marco objected.

I poked my head out from the cuff of Marco's sweatshirt. (Tobias and I almost skewered each other after you crashed into the side of a slaughterhouse. And, no one was injured during the time, but you did demolish Cassie's father's vehicle.)

"Actually, I think Marco nearly killed himself that time," Tobias corrected.

"I was thirteen! And we were playing hide-and-seek with the Veleek!" Marco groaned.

"Well, Ax, you seem to have a decent recollection of Marco's _Fast and Furious_ episodes," Tobias drawled. "Now, you also know that if Marco passes the test, you won't have the time or privacy to leap off and escape before he starts driving. Why are you doing this? Did he bribe you with flea powder again?"

"That was long before Ax became a good friend," Marco said indignantly. "I would never, ever do such a dirty-handed scheme anymore. Ax is simply doing this because he's—"

(Marco offered to pay thirty dollars worth of your currency on anything I wished at the food court if he manages to surpass the written examination and later attain a driver's license,) I said.

"But, Ax, it's, well, cheating. We don't have any laws on morphing, for obvious reasons, but I think this would qualify as a crime," Tobias said. "Not to mention the whole suicidal factor of being within one hundred feet of Marco driving. If you don't die now, Jake's going to kill you… Does he know about this?"

"Not now, but in a few years. With the Yeerk war going on, I don't think Big Jake needs anymore stress. At this rate, he'll have a heart attack," Marco said.

"Just like your driving instructor." Tobias buried his face into his hands. "You're unbelievable. Ax, it was great having you as an uncle. I promise to leave cinnamon buns and chocolate and popcorn on your grave marking." His body started decreasing in size in the handicapped stall of the restroom, arms cracking and arranging themselves into wings. "I'm taking to the air before the body count starts rising."

"You know, most people would wish us good luck," Marco grumbled. "Or break a leg."

(Good luck, Ax. Hope you survive without any lasting trauma,) Tobias said. He was below my line of sight, but I heard the shuffle and click of talons as he slipped under the stall door and the flutter of pinions as he flew out the window Marco had left open for him. (Marco, break a leg or two in the crash.)

I flicked my tongue and shut my mouth in disgust as the lavatory scents became more evident without another human's odor to overpower them. Even with my distance-impaired vision, I could see the dank green tiles on the floor, the pale tan shade of the stall door, and the oddly shaped, white toilet seat. Both the gecko and I wanted a fresher scented place, with plenty of plump insects for the lizard and turfs of grass for myself. However, I focused on my goal: answer thirty questions about primitive terrain vehicles and how to operate them on the road. For every question right, one hundred cents of Earth currency could be used on anything at the distribution area known as the mall. Cinnamon buns, pizza, diesel fuel, fried chicken, cigarette butts, wanton soup, ketchup… Every ingenious invention of Homo sapiens laid a mere test away.

Why did I need to be a reptile for this mission? I would hide under the sleeve of Marco's artificial skin, peeking out from underneath the cuff to read the questions and give the correct answer to him. The lizard eyes, though poor for seeing vast distances, had adapted to spot prey close by even in the darkest light. I did feel slightly guilty about what Tobias called "cheating" and had even mentioned it to Marco, but he informed me that a war was constantly raged between teachers and students in human society, and they would use their own underhanded tricks such as "pop quizzes" and "one-thousand-word essays" to fail students. No wonder human technological advancement was so far behind… (A/N: 1).

"Ready?" Marco asked.

(Yes. I have exactly one hundred and three of your minutes left in morph,) I said.

"They're everyone's minutes, Ax. So, the test should only take about three minutes with your help and half hour driving," Marco calculated.

I narrowed my beady eyes. (Are you suggesting it'll take as long as six of your seconds for me to answer each question?)

"Well, you can take your time if you want. No need to hurry—" Marco began.

(Six seconds?) I continued. (That's very insulting. One is all I'll need.)

"Oookay. Knock yourself out. Didn't mean to offend you," Marco said. "Let's go."

I scrambled backwards as Marco drew the cover of black fabric over me. The sudden darkness calmed whatever nervousness remained in the gecko, not even bothered by Marco's gait and smell. The lasted forty-three seconds until the world—or rather, Marco's arm—tilted and dropped lower toward the ground, suggesting he had sat behind one of the desks. Voices of other human adolescents grumbled and tittered shakily and excitedly around us. A male human's louder voice silenced them, then I heard the stomp of thick, artificial hooves hitting the ground and the rustle of paper.

I peeked to see the white sheet with questions neatly placed down the sides, as well as Marco's hand scratching his name across the top. The area I perched on slid closer to the question sheet and I nearly laughed at the simplicity of the questions. Actually, I did.

"Just give me the answers, would you?" Marco groaned.

I stopped chuckling and scanned the questions. (A, D, D, B, C, B, C, A, D—)

"Slow down," Marco hissed. "And watched the claws." I loosened my grip on his arm, relying only on the miniscule hairs in the pads of my toes.

"Marco, what was that you just said?" the adult male asked. "Are you sharing answers with Theo and Jacob back there?"

"Huh? No! I was, uh, reading to myself," Marco said. "And what are the laws—"

"Other students are taking the test!"

"But you—"

"Quiet!"

I began to understand what Marco had meant about the teacher/student war. Marco lowered his head back towards the desk, muttering, "Jerk." I read the answers at half the speed as before, waiting patiently for Marco to fill in the circles, and finished it in a time of forty-two seconds—would've been twenty-nine, if Marco could've written faster. Six seconds, hmph. Marco waited another two minutes, which I thought was strange until I noticed that the others in his class had yet to get halfway through the sheet. "Mr. Kampf, I'm finished. So, do we start driving now?"

"Let me see that." A hairy, thick-veined hand snatched the sheet off the desk and quickly scanned the paper, slack-jawed. "How could you…. You never even pay attention in here." He sighed. "Thirty out of thirty." He glared at Marco. "Get that smart aleck look off your face. You still have the driving portion of the examination to do."

More moving. I tucked my head further up Marco's sleeve, so the human teacher didn't happen to spot my arrow-shaped skull by chance. A couple minutes passed… Almost only an hour left in morph… I could tell by the odors and the increased warmth of Marco's hoodie that we had stepped outside into the sun, and the click and smack of doors signaled we had entered the car. Marco drummed his fingers along the steering until there was a clinks of metal and I spotted the gleam of keys in his hand.

(Put on your seatbelt,) I said as Marco inserted the keys into the side of the steering mechanism. (That's one of the three most likely reasons you'll die in a crash if you neglect it.)

"Got ya," Marco said, clicking the belt into place.

(You didn't need to reply…. Where's your instructor?) I asked.

"He went to go check his German class," Marco answered.

(I thought he taught Driver's Ed?) I asked.

"The budgeting sort of got cut with the whole No Child Left Behind crap going around. We share teachers in the extra classes. Let's just say we watch _Jurassic Park_ and _Terminator_ a lot in that class," Marco said. He started messing with the buttons in-between the driver and passenger's seats. "Let's see if there's anything good on…"

_"Can you handle the curves? Can you run all the lights? If you can baby boy then we can go all night. Cos I'm 0 to 60 in three point five. Baby you got the keys. Now shut up and drive! Drive, drive—"_

"Freaking irony…" Marco grumbled.

(Marco, please change it,) I muttered. (No offense, I don't like most human high-pitched vocal noises, but this is awful.)

"Agree." He pressed another button.

_"Did a great figure eight, in the middle of the interstate. Tires squeal wherever we go. Even hitchhikers just say no. She drives like crazy—"_

"This is getting ridiculous," Marco grunted. Another button clicked.

_"You wanted in and now you're here. Driven by hate, consumed by fear. Let the bodies hit the floor—"_

Click.

(Marco, I'm not superstitious, but maybe you shouldn't drive today,) I said.

"Ax, no one is going to die," Marco assured me. He turned off the stereo and leaned back into the seat. "I just need to drive around the parking lot a couple times, park the car, check the mirrors and turn signals, and zip along the highway for fifteen minutes. Nothing's going to happen."

The door to our right opened and a massive form slid in, giving Marco a raised eyebrow as I ducked back into hiding. "Whom were you talking to?"

"Myself. Confidence booster," Marco said quickly. "So, um, what first?"

"Back out of the parking space and circle around twice," Mr. Kampf droned.

The car jerked and almost seemed to jump up as Marco drove in reverse, but I didn't hear anything crash or break or scream, so everything seemed all right. The car continued its backward crawl and I could feel the tendons in Marco's hands tighten as he concentrated on the steady speed.

(Hey, there he is! Marco, its Vert and me,) Mercury called.

SCREECH! I dug my nails into Marco's arm before I could be flung forwards and onto the windshield or something worse. CRUUUNCH! The car came to a sudden halt and Marco and Mr. Kampf's bodies slammed into the dash. The gecko begged to run and escape whatever mayhem waited. What had I been thinking? Was free food worth one's life? Well… Maybe things wouldn't get too worse.

(Doing a marvelous job, hon,) Vertigo said. (Just don't hit any more trees.)

"Marco! What are you doing?" Mr. Kampf snarled.

"Sorry, sir," Marco said. "Caffeine rush finally kicking into gear. Whew. Now, what did you want? Drive around the lot twice?"

"Let's do three to be safe," Mr. Kampf muttered. "Wollen wir den Fußgängern eine Chance geben zu laufen." (A/N: 2)

For once, Marco didn't snap out a retort. The vehicle flung itself forward, changing pace as Marco applied more and less pressure on the gas and brake. Fast, slow, fast, slow. Ignoring the dizziness started to buzz in the back of my head, I stuck my head out for a brief second. Two ebony ravens circled overhead, following the car's path.

(Marco, there's a lizard on you,) Mercury said. (Oh, wait. Which one of you guys is there? Cassie, Jake, Tobias?)

(Aximili,) I answered. (Don't fly behind the car. Humans, especially Controllers, will notice your movements.)

(They'll just think we're going after all the road kill Marco piles up for us,) Vertigo said. (Speaking of carrion, Marco, there's a squirrel in front of you! Watch out!)

The car swung to the right, the momentum flinging me out of Marco's sleeve and onto the filthy, reeking floor in between his feet. I felt the machine slam into the curb and slid underneath the brake just as Marco pressed downward. I scrambled out of the way and squealed as it crushed my tail. The gecko went into a frightened ad hysterical mode, seizing control of my body and I ran, feeling a slight tug and the weight of the crushed appendage disappeared.

"What is going on in your head?" Mr. Kampf asked bluntly.

"There was a squirrel and…" Marco patted his sleeve and swore. "Shit, where'd he go?"

"Where did who go? Are you on drugs?" Mr. Kampf asked. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Get off the sidewalk and park by the gymnasium's entrance. The school needs this vehicle for the other students."

(Marco, I'm on the floor. I just lost my tail and some blood, I think,) I said.

(Vert, that's not a squirrel. That's a scarf, you idiot!) Mercury said.

(Whoops.)

"I'm going to kill them," Marco muttered. His foot pressed down on the gas and despite the microscopic hairs on my feet and my claws, I slid back underneath the brake. I tried to sprint away across the pebbly, dirt covered carpeting, but one of my hind legs got caught on something sticky. Marco's other foot started pushing the rectangular object down towards me.

(No! Marco, I'm stuck! If you press down on the brake, you'll squash me!) I said. (Please, if you don't mind, DON'T KILL ME!)

"For the love of… Now what are you doing?" Mr. Kampf asked.

"Uh, parallel parking?" Marco asked sheepishly.

"At sixty-six miles per hour?!" Mr. Kampf shouted.

"Um, yes?"

Before Mr. Kampf could say anything else, I heard the ominous noise of metal crunching and squeaking and bending as it hit more metal. Bodies thumped and jerked and there was a crack of glass. The gecko's bladder released itself as Marco's driving managed to toss me away from the brake. Trembling, I limped to the seat and climbed up it, then scaled Marco's side and collapsed on his shoulder. Marco groaned and leaned back into his seat.

"Owww. Whiplash. Good thing you reminded me about the seat belt," Marco said. "Uh, Mr. Kampf?"

The teacher sat slumped unconsciousness, a line of drool dripping from his lower lip and a rivulet of red dribbling down his forward. On the passenger side window I could see a tiny crack. Marco pressed his fingers tentatively against the man's neck.

(Is he dead?) Mercury asked. (See, Vert, this is why I hate automobiles!)

Marco withdrew his hand and gave a thumb up. "Still alive and breathing. Just a little concussion."

(What the heck?) Tobias suddenly yelled and I spotted the scarlet-tailed dot soaring amidst the clouds toward us. (I leave to get a mouse and you kill your teacher.)

"He's not dead!" Marco shouted, opening the door, pressing the catch on his seat belt, and sliding out unsteadily. His hand curled around me and tucked me into his sweatshirt's pocket. I curled up and tried to stop the spinning in my head. "Can't believe I hit that stupid Dumpster. And here comes Chapman."

(Hey, Marco, if you get Chapman to substitute, that'll be one less Controller,) Tobias drawled.

"Shut up! Oh, not you, Mr. Chapman. Yeah, I… What do you mean I failed?"

&/&/&/&/&

By the time Marco had discussed the situation to the vice principal/Controller Chapman, the ambulance, and a couple frustrated peers who seemed more peeved at not being able to drive rather than the condition of Mr. Kampf—a few of the more sadistic ones congratulated him, disturbing as that seems, I had dashed off in the gecko's damaged body, found a place to demorph, and morph human. I had successfully put on artificial skins, even the annoying hooves, and walked a couple blocks away from the school. Tobias glided above the stumpy maple tree I sat under, landing smoothly onto its thick branches. We'd chosen an area known as a "playground" to meet up in, where many humans younger than the age of puberty played games involving crude metallic structures they climbed on, swung upon, and other varieties of entertainment.

A group of human children had begun a game of chase and catch around the structures, but they cavorted far enough away that I could easily engage in conversation with Tobias without the use of thought-speak. Tobias preened his feathers with his hooked beak and cocked his head at me.

(Ax, I may regret asking this, but why do you have a belt around your neck?) he asked.

"I have seen humans ew-means wear these objects jects like this isss. Hm, that sound is isss almost as delightful deal-lite-fill as z's.," I observed. "It's part of their ear trend, I believe. I'm trying eye-ing to understand stand human styles iles. It is uncomfortable, though."

(That's because you pretty much have it tightened into a noose,) Tobias said wearily. (What humans do that?)

"The ones who wear air an excessive amount ount of black artificial skins and enjoy self-mutilation ation by piercing sing bits of metal tall through their flesh," I said. "I've seen een many of them. Emmm. Is masochism another human man trend?"

Tobias paused in thought, picking between his talons. (Please don't tell me you're trying to be Goth. Take it off. The belt's not even black and you aren't emo.)

"Eeeem-mooo," I tested the word, but complied, laying the belt on the grass beside me. I had to admit, breathing did become easier without the restraint. "How ow is Marco?"

(Thought you'd never ask. The medics think Mr. Kampf's only suffered a concussion and Marco can say the brakes were shoddy,) Tobias said. (Not that his teacher or Chapman'll let him drive again anytime soon. He got booted from Driver's Ed till next year.)

"There was nothing wrong with the brakes," I said, raising an eyebrow.

(Yes, Ax. Yes there was. Some random blonde and under appreciated nothlit destroyed the car's braking system for a laugh LONG before Marco got in it. That's the story,) Tobias said. (What? He owes me. Hey, it was that or expulsion for him. Even I'm not cruel enough to have him kicked out of high school.) He sighed. (And here comes our delinquent friend now, with Vertigo and Mercury in tow.)

Marco trudged toward us, head lowered and eyes narrowed. He no longer wore the sweatshirt in the burning sun, but just a shirt. On each side of him, occasionally grabbing an arm in earnest, were Vertigo and Mercury, lips a blur. For once they didn't don thin wrap-around sheets called "skirts", but long-legged coverings called "jeans" and chest coverings that hid more than revealed. Mercury, for some reason, still wore the needle-like stilts on her feet.

Marco rolled his eyes skyward and pulled away from them, slumping on my right side. Mercury drifted to his side, while Vertigo sat on mine.

"I was this close," Marco said in exasperation, holding his arm out and pressing his thumb and forefinger together. "This close to getting a license and driving."

(That close to raising the death rate in the state,) Tobias muttered.

"For the sixtieth time, we're sorry for distracting you," Mercury said. "I don't see what the big hype is all about. A vehicle is just a tin can death trap. I say trust your feet. Or a bike."

(Don't apologize! You may have saved lives today,) Tobias said.

"Well, actually, we might just have helped hurt that teach," Vertigo said, wincing.

"He'll live," Mercury said.

"Marco, you can an fly ie as an osprey or seagull. Sea gal. Why do you need eed to travel in such a…" I searched for the right and least offensive word. "…antiquated automobile. In fact, hasn't the use of them raised your planet's temperature?"

"Maybe, Al Gore." Marco sighed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. "Listen, Ax, think of it like this: would an Andalite lady prefer a guy with wheels or the guy who hasn't even gotten a license? Answer me."

"Actually, Andalites dal-lites get their, uh, 'license' at the equivalent of ten human years ears of life. Ife," I said, somewhat nervously, as I noticed Marco clenching his jaw.

"What? Are you serious?" Marco demanded and I nodded slowly. "God, why did I have to be human?" His fingers dug into my collarbone absentmindedly.

"Oh, geez. You wanted to drive because you could pick up girls? Guys are all alike." Mercury rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Here, then." She grabbed him by the chin and tilted his head toward her. Before he could move away, she leaned forward and plastered her thick lips against his. His eyes opened wide in surprise and he jerked back, but Mercury had basically glued herself to him. She pulled back with a satisfied smirk. "Happy now? No car needed. Now, that'll be ten bucks."

(Um, wow,) Tobias commented. (Marco, are you still conscious?)

"Uh-huh," Marco mumbled, blinking to clear his eyes. "You know, , if I didn't know you probably do that to a lot of guys, I'd forget about everyone asking me if I had tried to commit first degree murder at school."

"Well, I tried," Mercury said, sighing. She reached into her pocket for a pack of cigarettes, popped one into her mouth, and lit it. "You know, if you happened to forget the whole hustler thing, you might remember I saved your ass by running full out at a fricking red, psychopathic dino-alien."

"Which also means you're crazy like Rachel," Marco said, grinning.

Mercury pursed her lips and stuck her tongue at him. "I'm going to burn you." She waved the cigarette a few inches from his face.

Marco laughed. "What a lady."

"Asshole," Mercury said and chuckled.

Shaking his head at their behavior, Vertigo inclined his head towards mine and nudged my side with his elbow. "I've got a present for you," he whispered. I stared at him and his lips peeled back into a mischievous grin. "Don't tell the others. They won't let me give it to you if they see it." He stood, wiped bits of weeds and flecks of dirt from his jeans, and pulled me up as well. "Come on."

Tobias turned his head at us. (Where are you going?)

Vertigo jerked a thumb at Marco and Mercury. "Leaving Mer and her customer to their business." At that, Marco flushed a pinkish shade and Mercury laughed. "You staying with them, Tobias?"

(Eh, no. I didn't get the mouse earlier, so I'll have to try again,) Tobias sighed, opening his wings and stretching them to their full width.

"Ick. Maybe you should consider a vegan diet," Vertigo said, blanching. "Don't mice carry the Black Plague or something?"

(No, that's rats and that a thousand years ago, dude,) Tobias said with a laugh. (Tell me though if they start selling Veggie Rodent at Walmart.) He left and a couple human kids shrieked with enjoyment as he glided above them, awed by the red tail feathers, before he caught a thermal and disappeared into the clouds.

"Show off," Marco said.

Mercury grinned. "This coming from the guy who makes jokes while juggling Hork-Bajir."

Vertigo went toward the more wooded side of the park, with maples, pines, and elms crowding closer together like sentries. He surveyed the area really quickly, appeared happy with the lack of observers, and grabbed his item-holder called a "purse". I went over to a tree stump, brushed a couple red-and-black insects off, and sat down, curious.

He gave a grunt of cheer and pulled out a tiny plastic bag filled with a shredded, dark green substance I couldn't identify. It fit in the palm of his hand and he clenched his fingers around it before tossing it toward me. Human hands and arms faster and more reflexive than my own Andalite limbs, I easily snatched the package out of midair. Baffled, I timidly sniffed it, finding it had an odd, but not unpleasant, odor.

"Talon and Demeter said you Andalites enjoy eating grass. Well, I hope you like the Earth brand," Vertigo said with a weird glint in his eye, sitting down beside me. "Like it?'

Grass? Why would someone give me a bag of grass, when the vegetation was so common in the area I lived in? Maybe it was a type of joke, then. Unsure of any other possible alternatives, I rolled the bag in my hand and laughed.

"What's so funny, love?" Vertigo asked.

"This is—aha—supposed to be humorous—ha ha ha—correct, ect?" I said, having a difficult time playing with syllables while chuckling. "Because oz I am an Andalite lite and my kind depend end on grass—he he ha ha—for survival, ool, you meant this to be funny. Aha!"

Now Vertigo laughed and patted my shoulder. "No! Not this stuff!" He bent down and yanked a handful of green shoots, letting the leaves drift away from his fingers. "That stuff is special. You can smoke, eat, or even drink it! It relaxes you and makes everything hilarious and fun, Axie. Just don't show it to Marco or the others. They'll get finicky ideas about it. Actually, you might just want to hide it for now and enjoy it later. Like, after a mission."

"Oh, um, thank ank you ew. I shall," I said, stashing the strange plant material in my pocket.

"No need. You saved Mercury from that Yarbets—" Vertigo started.

"Yarbezz. Ezz-zuh," I said.

Vertigo jabbed a finger at me. "Don't correct me, Mr. Stutter. Anyway, you saved her from him and his gang. Don't know what I'd do without that psycho gal. I would've saved her, but there was a lack of arms dealio."

"Does she still want to ew help us fight? Ite?" I asked.

He sighed, blowing a strand of fiery hair from his forehead. "Unfortunately, yes. All of them. Maybe she really wants to save the human race and have your Marco boy, especially since they had a ball messin' with that Screamer guy Set. Demeter wants to save humans and Screamers alike with Meds and you guys' help. Hollow's now in it for the Screamer kids and Talon wants to serve Visser Three's head on a stick. Yummy yum escargot." He got off the stump and laid out on the ground, snapping twigs between his fingers. "I'll make sure they don't get themselves killed. What about you guys?"

Automatically the words "we have to stop the invasion" came to mind, but I could tell he probably wanted me to elaborate on that. Besides, we had our own personal reasons as well as the obvious general one. "Prince Jake and Marco co have family involved, ones that at are Controllers ollers now. If the Yeerks win, they'll not aught only enslave ave the human mon race, but leave the planet plane-at a wasteland and, which Cassie won't allow ow. Rachel, I think, thrives on the fighting and adrenaline. Tobias… I guess est that since eense he's already a nothlit, being involved with the war or helps him hold onto his humanity, as well as his friends. Ends-zuh."

Vertigo waited and glanced at me, tapping my calf with his foot. "And you, hon?"

Somewhere nearby a woodpecker started assaulting a tree with its beak. I listened to the racket and glanced at Vertigo. "The Yeerks are loose because one of my people, Seerow see-roe, enabled abled them to be free eeee from the pools of their ear homeworld and made it possible poz-zib-bell for them to steal our technology ology," I said bitterly. "It's every Andalite males' duty tea to end their plague of infestation."

"Males, eh? No girls in the army?" Vertigo asked. "Guess Women's Lib hasn't kicked in on your planet."

"'Women' would be an incorrect in-core-rec term erm," I said. "Since 'woman' is a word for humans, not Andalites."

Vertigo groaned. "Stupid technicalities. Oh well, we'll debate sexism later." Before I could object to explain that the military allowed females to fight—despite how males are better suited in physical hardship and combat, he said, "How about any personal reasons, like with the others? Do you get a buzz cutting up slugs like Rachel and Talon?"

Despite my disdain for Yeerks, the thought of actually enjoying slaughter repulsed me. "No. O." I picked flecks of bark off the side of the stump as my mind reeled in sudden anger. "Whenever an Andalite is murdered, it's the duty of his or her sibling to avenge their death." I bristled. "Visser Three killed my elder brother, Elfangor."

Vertigo blanched. "So, another revenge story, like Dem and Talon."

"How so?" I asked.

"Well, they both want o get back at him. Besides the whole experiment shinazz that went down because of her empathy, Visser three killed her pap since his Yeerk was the one running the tests. Sick, huh?" he asked.

I nodded. That tidbit of information added to my confusion of why she would willingly work for a Yeerk, along with how she could hear hosts "screaming". I shuddered. Many Andalite warriors would sacrifice their left hind hooves to have the ability to detect Yeerk presence, but after watching the puzzle-skinned girl's reaction by the Pool, I wondered if the price was worth it. "And Talon?"

"Humiliation." Vertigo narrowed his blue eyes at me. "Everything we say or do here is confidential, alright hon?" After a moment's pause, almost drowning in my own inquisitiveness, I tipped my head. "Okay, good. Just so you know, Talon'll skin you alive if he finds out you know about this. He's pretty touchy about it. Well, okay, remember how Dem said he was in the Visser's guard?"

I glanced off to the side, at a pair of squirrels squabbling in a maple. "Yes, but, no offense off-fence, the story ie sounds unbelievable. Un-bell-leave-ab-bowl. For one, un, he appears ears too young. How old is he anyway?"

"Seventeen, I think. Give or take a year. He never said. Keeps a lot to himself." Vertigo picked a cigarette out of his purse and lit it, taking a puff. "Anywho, he used to get into a lot of fights and shit at school, since people mocked him cause he came out of the projects and other stupid crap. Wasn't till he busted some dude's arm after he made comments about Talon's family and they were going to send him off to boot camp that his mum sent him to a youth help center run by our Screamer buddies. He wasn't—and still isn't—into the hold hands and sing Kum By Ya, and left it the moment they deemed him 'reasonably sane'." Vertigo went into an uproar of guffaws, scaring some birds above him. "Kidding. They convinced his mum to make him a full member—better counseling and more people to interact with—and they dunked his head into a pool.

"Talon, as you might guess from hanging around us, love, hasn't had a great history with obeying authority. Alien slugs are no different. He made at least five escape attempts, always ending up with a stun of Dracon to the back or a Hork-Bajir snatching him. On the six, he managed to grab one of the laser guns and got past the two men holding him on the Pool's pier. He skirted past some Hork-Bajir and took out three people before some guy tackled him." He inhaled deeply on the cigarette and snorted, smoke gushing from his nostrils. "Well, the big bad blue guy, V-Three, decided to take him under his wing, you could say. Gave him a new Yeerk and placed the two in training for combat, mostly out of curiosity."

"How do you ew know oh all this is?" I asked. "You mentioned chinned that he's secretive."

"I'll get to that. Keep your fur on, space boy." Vertigo grinned, then grew serious. "Talon did some battles, even, but his Yeerk, Odret 177, was busy selling info to some other visser. Had some Spanish woman host. V-Three caught on and had him arrested and brought to trial, which is just him taunting the accused before killing them." He took one last puff and crushed the stub onto a stone. "You notice those scars he had before morphing? All those little cat scratch marks?" (A/N: 3).

I shook my head.

"They tried to get all the info that Odret had sold out to the other visser by putting him in this cage thing that… Um, did you see Saw Four?" He sighed. "Probably good. Robert took me to see it and it had the same plot as the others…. But anyway, think barb-wire contraption, with a few additives." He shuddered. "Well, in the same week as Dem, Meds staged a rescue for the guy. Talon freaked when all the commotion was going on and escaped while some of the resistance's peeps were standing off against the visser's guys.

"Now, here me and Mercury come in. Imagine the scene: dark night out, pissed that one of her customers refused to pay her and threatened to strangle her if she didn't go, and the two of us are mopin' in an alley. We're sharing some of the special grass and a couple bottles of Smirnoff we took from behind the liquor store, when this black boy bathed in blood, his clothes a bunch of rags, and muttering gibberish comes popping out of a retail store. People are shrieking and pointing. The guy runs past us and guess what we do?

"Mercury was sour about not getting paid for getting laid, so she decides to get a quick buck off the guy by rolling him. We find him unconscious some streets away and rifle through his pockets." Vertigo glanced at my appalled expression. "That's the street life, my friend. Stay in school." He chuckled. "The guy wakes up and tries to fucking cut me open with a shard of glass he finds beside him, saying almost drunkenly—the guy just got tortured and all, 'Die, you fucking Yeerks!' and stuff like that.

"Mercury comes up and in a very nice manner, slaps the shit outta him and asks what he's yammering about." He snorted. "Tells us about the Yeerks and that they're going to try to find him. Freaks some more. Mercury, for the most part, thought he was crazy—what do you expect with that story?—but offers to hide him at the apartment if it'll shut him up. Tell the truth, I thought he was crazy or trying to evade the police, and Mercury even crazier for taking him with us.

"He basically got the same shitty patch-up job you got from Hollow and Dem, Axie. Gave him some bags of chips and pretzels we'd gotten from _Illusions_ the night before. Still thought he was nutty as hell telling us about the Sharing until a freaking bladed Godzilla and some old guy walked in the next day, telling us even MORE about the Yeerks after he offered a job to Talon and talon brought us with them." Vertigo sighed. "Crazy, eh? By now that's a bit of an understatement, I think."

Even I could see the obvious humor in that statement and chuckled. "And Hollow? How did she appear?"

"You'll have to ask Talon. She came out of nowhere," Vertigo said. "Just like everyone else, apparently." He dug into his purse and pulled out two more cigarettes. "Want one?"

"Yes-suh," I said, picking it from his fingertips. He extended the lighter toward me, flicking the flame into life, but I simply bit into it and chewed the delicious mix of tobacco and other substances. "Yum. Thank you."

Vertigo laughed and got to his feet, coming towards me. He wrapped his thin arms around me and squeezed as tightly as possible, startling me. "Axie, I swear I love you! Aha!" He pressed his lips against my cheek, chuckled, and walked away, starting back toward where I could see Marco and Mercury still talking away to each other. "Remember, don't tell Talon about that and keep that special grass tucked away."

He turned away and I rubbed my cheek, grimacing. I'd definitely have to ask Tobias about the weird attractions between humans, as I knew other sentient creatures like Yeerks were often asexual up until near the end of their lives, where mating became a necessity, but also pansexual, depending on their hosts.

Walking back into the bright sunlight without the cool shadows of the trees, I considered Vertigo's story. If the Animorphs came face-to-face with Visser Three—which, considering our consistent history, would be within the next few weeks at some point—would Talon listen to Prince Jake's careful and direct orders? Or would he act on his own, even to the point of endangering the rest of us? I suspected the latter, especially with Vertigo's comment about his disrespect for authority. Despite my promise to the feminine boy, I would at some point have to tell Prince Jake and maybe Cassie, as she was as good at reading people's personalities as Demeter was as reading people's emotions.

Mercury jerked her head in our direction and Marco glanced over. He shouted to us, "Well, let's go break the news to the others before Tobias over exaggerates the story."

It took me a moment to register what he was referring to. I shook my head. "Marco, you nearly ee killed me." Vertigo and I made it to the tree, leaning against its thick trunk.

"Well, that's just the life o an Animorph for you," Marco said offhandedly.

I sighed, wondering if I was simply fated to be surrounded by crazy people. I'd have to ask Demeter about that Moira woman. Maybe I should worry about more people besides the new recruits…

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Here's to the A/N's, as usual:

A/N: 1—Weirdly enough, I bet Andalites in general would probably like pop quizzes (game for the brain). Marco just exaggerated the evilness of them.

A/N: 2—Mr. Kampf said, "Let's give the pedestrians a chance to run."

A/N: 3—Odret 177 was the Yeerk who infested Tobias in Megamorphs 4. The "Spanish woman host" is Visser One.


	11. Demeter6

To my reviewers:

_**Weirdo**_: A little bit of both, actually. (headdesk) I can't believe I forgot to mention Tobias's daddy. Still, Ax, like you mentioned, would probably consider it a private matter. (shrugs) Once I get to chapter fifteen or so, I'm going to go back and edit some of the chapters for grammar, spelling, and other errors, but I'll remember to keep this in mind. This will include the Italics for Demeter's dreams that fanfiction screwed up. (chuckles) You have to love the antics of Marco and Ax. However, you should probably put a seatbelt on your chair—I don't want to be held accountable for any head injuries. Haha

_**Woonko the Great**_: Hell, I don't think his kid would be getting a license till that age. I really do want to write a Marco/Mercury kind of romance. Nothing explicit or rushed, since that's the mistake most OC makers commit when they try to get their OC with a canon character, but yeah, I'm not yanking your chain. That sounds a little too painful for me to do to someone.

A/N: I've gotten a couple PMs concerning "A Sight of Blue", so I have a contest idea, if anyone's interested. "Empath's Streets" sounds cheesy even to me as a title, but the alternative I thought of, "A Touch of Empathy", sounds like one of those smutty romance novels. So, here's the challenge: new title for the story.

It has to be along the lines of "A of ". The first blank has to pertain to one of these senses: smell, touch, hearing, or taste. The second blank can be just about anything, as long as it's integral to the story, such as empathy, slime, you get the idea. Since I haven't revealed the entirety of the plot so far, the results will be taken in at the end of Chapter Thirteen. The second blank can't be a canon/OC's name or the name of a species (Taxxon, Yeerk, human, etc.).

The winner gets a one-shot involving any fandom—as long as I'm familiar with it. (Wolf's Rain, X-Men Evo, Death Note, Pendragon, and Greek Mythology, and Animorphs are a few examples). It can be the weirdest and probably most outlandish plot you want me to write (in fact, the stranger, the more fun). Good luck!

A/N: The next chapter may come a little late, since I'm working on a one-shot for a July challenge by Flame Rising: turn a fanfic cliche (ex: suicidal/cutter canon, sex-change canon, rape canon) on its head and end it with the line, "Yes, but why in the world did you make it _pink_?" I'm doing sex-change for the Animorph cast, if anyone wants or cares to know. haha

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

Chapter Eleven: The Examiner

Like just about every other human being on the face of the Earth, I'd thought dogs came from wolves, ignoring the question of how we inbred enough midget wolves to make Chihuahuas and such. That's half the story. Apparently, thousands of years ago, before the first pharaoh even had his butt wiped by his nursemaid, a race called the Howlers committed the ultimate genocide by unleashing an illness that did to the Pemalites what the Andalites did to the Hork-Bajir. Their android companions, the Chee, tried to save the happy-go-lucky masters by harvesting DNA samples and mixing it with an animal that resembled them the most. Shoving aside the fangs, hunger for meat, and inability to stand as a biped, wolves made the list.

The Chee have made a living—if that applies to robots—by coexisting in human society, "living" a certain amount of decades, appearing to age by using advance holographic technology, and "dying" only to restart their little game. They might've started Hinduism, who knows? Anyway, another interesting fact about them: their homeworld's gravity was four times stronger than Earth's, so they could probably carry an elephant up the Himalayas with ease, but their masters programmed them to be non-violent.

Now, they worked as spies for the Animorphs, picking out bits and pieces of information from Screamers. In fact, Erek and a few others had been the ones to inform Jake and his crew about Meds's rise in the Resistance's hierarchy.

I chewed idly on a thumbnail, barely registering the taste of grit and dirt under it. "Bet Disney was one of those Chee. Who else would call a dog 'Pluto'? The whole other planet reference. Unless the bones he buried were human…" (A/N: 1).

"I doubt it. Remember all the perverted sex references in _Lion King_ and _Aladdin_?" Rachel asked. "Though, then again, there is Goofy. And—"

"Okay, I think we're getting off track here," Cassie said. Frowning in distaste, she kicked an empty Pony Rock bottle away from her feet. A small shattered pile of them had gathered in a corner. "You said you are meeting someone called the 'Examiner' with Talon. What does that mean?"

I whispered a prayer of gratitude that she'd chosen that topic, my legs beating a staccato against the green side of Dumpster I perched on. Due to a mixture of rotting and fermenting odors wafting up from its depths, Rachel and Cassie had taken a seat on some checker red-and-black plastic crates further back in the alley. Thanks to the slanting shadows from the bank and apartment on either side, the black trash bags filling up the rest of the space were still damp from almost a week prior of rain, allowing all sorts of exotic looking molds and fungus to flourish amongst the spilled contents.

The beer bottles by the crates seemed interesting. I didn't believe anyone from the apartment would leave their comfortable rooms to have a friendly drink in the middle of the stench, but a couple employees from the bank skipping work for a few seconds? Interesting. Pushing aside that thought, I glanced back up at Rachel and Cassie's faces.

I swung my feet up and sat Indian style, leaning back enough that if I lost my balance, I'd tumble into the Dumpster's concoction of rumpled paper, mildew-festering clothes, and putrid food wrapped up in leaking garbage bags. "Okay, did you ever wonder how the Yeerk Resistance got its hosted members?"

Pro Metheus and Odin had done the calculations for me and said that only twenty-seven percent of the Resistance had hosts—lower than what Meds had originally told me—and for every Yeerk that even had a host, only one out of every forty on Earth had ties to the Resistance, some a bit questionable. Pro had explained that if a revolution between the Yeerks following the Council and Vissers and the Yeerks of the Peace Movement would ever occur, the latter would need to boost its numbers now.

Curiosity and interest peaked in Rachel's aura. "I was never sure how that went about." She grinned. "I'm guessing you guys don't pass out sign up sheets or fliers?"

"Kind of. Meds says that the Examiner uses the Internet. The Yeerk section on MySpace or Live Journal," I said, expecting both to laugh at the thought. Bemusement radiated off each, but I felt uncertainty in Cassie as well. "The Examiner spreads rumors of a certain Screamer—herself—who 'may' have ties to the Resistance. For those with more than casual interest, she give tidbits of the person's identity. Lo and behold, they seek out our friend, the Examiner, and set up meetings Talon and I observe outside."

"Interesting." Rachel waved a couple chubby flies away from her face. Odd to see such a clean person surrounded by such filth. "Any idea who he is? What's his name?"

I shrugged. I didn't think she'd jump straight to that question. "I tried asking her once, and even pecked at her mind, but it's like ramming a brick wall. Meds apparently told her about my little trick." Chewing my lip, I added, "The only thing I definitely know about her is that she has a grudge against Visser Three and she's done some…criminal activity."

Rachel snorted. "Who doesn't have a grudge against the guy?"

Cassie leaned forward, eyes darkened and narrowed slightly. "What do you mean 'criminal activity'?"

Again I rolled my shoulders, feeling the golden ticket of their interest crumbling away under Cassie's doubt. "Dunno on that, either. Believe me, though, it was bad enough to have the Visser practically sign her death warrant by cutting her off Kandrona rays." A can rattled inside the Dumpster and I nearly tumbled off my seat, only to spot a pair of beady, red eyes gleam up at me. Fucking rats. A year on the streets and I still hated the pests, even if Talon, in his usual derisive manner, said they were good eats with the right sauce. Yuck. "Plus, I thought you'd have info, because she did something that supposedly rubbed badly with you guys a year ago. If it helps, she used to have a brown-haired male host."

Rachel and Cassie stared dubiously at each other and me. Cassie chuckled. "Brown-haired male host? That's only about twenty percent of the people in this state, give or take. I know you don't want anyone to know your real name, Demeter, or anyone else's, but don't you have any specifics?" Cassie asked.

She spoke without any irritation or impatience, and even her aura felt calm, but I still felt like a nimrod as I shook my head horizontally rather than vertically. Clueless, that's me, especially when Rachel groaned. "You've been working for this Meds guy for a year, right? Don't tell me you couldn't have picked up a couple names of his associates at one point." She sighed. "You were telling us about how he set up meetings with Controllers? What then?"

Her condescending tone sent a pang of frustration through me and I banged my fist against the Dumpster, listening to the resounding clatter and ring of the metal. "I'll show you. How about that?" I slid off my seat and landed in a crouch, the palm of my left hand raw as it scraped against pavement. Not waiting for a reply, I wiped grime from my knees and left the alley, welcoming the refreshing clearer air from the collected odors of garbage.

Once again, Meds's words came to mind, the same conversation I'd thought of before Hollow and I had found Aximili: "_Most of the resistance doesn't have host bodies. I'd say the ones who do only range at thirty-five percent, so it's harder to know whether to trust new members with the limited surveillance. You could check their minds for suspicious activity, tell us if they are actually…Screamers?"_

And that was the whole point of these meetings with the Examiner. She gathered and talked, I scanned like a security officer at the airport for the Screamer terrorists, and Talon made sure the bad ones didn't cause any trouble. It was beautifully orchestrated and had gone on for months now, with no faulty setbacks.

However, Rachel and Cassie's remarks had struck a low spot. In truth, most of what I knew of the Examiner was that she lured other Screamers into an open discussion with her in public, in a restaurant or other mutual area, and engage them in her careless banter hitting upon the individuals running the Yeerk Empire, bitter and indiscreet enough not to miss a beat as she made slurs against Councilors and Vissers alike. During that part, I often got a short giggle out of the mounting levels of shock from her company, who knew that such words might have been the reason Visser Three sentenced her into starvation. Of course, in-between concealed bandy—she obviously replaced words such as "Andalite" to keep regular humans from gathering interest, she would slip in vague granules of Resistance knowledge.

Which was where Talon and I came in. Like having my fingers pressed down on a carotid pulse for lies, I submerged myself within the unsuspecting Screamers' minds and emotions, searching for tiny bubbles of deceit or thoughts involving words such as "traitors" or "promotion". If they passed the test, the Examiner would meet up with them a few more times to be sure and finally seek approval from others like Meds in the Peace Movement before enlisting them. If they failed…

Still immersed in his book and oblivious to our approach due to the constant roar and screech of traffic and flow of pedestrians outside the _Lunar Rouge_, Talon peered up only when I plopped down beside him on the right side of the place's entrance steps. I leaned in close and turned the cover back to glance at the title. "The Jungle? Never knew you were interested in nature and that Jumanji stuff."

Talon gave me an incredulous look, pausing to briefly acknowledge Cassie and Rachel's presence. "If you would bother to read the summary like I always tell you, you wouldn't sound like such an illiterate imbecile, Patches." He thumbed through the papers to relocate his place. "A nice little tale of the preparations done to supply McDonald's with burgers."

Cassie grimaced. "Please don't elaborate. My Health class just got through watching Super Size Me and chicken nuggets have never looked quite as awful."

Rachel smiled good-naturedly at her. "Wimp." She smirked.

"Hmph. You should still take a look," Talon said, tossing the hardcover into Rachel's lap. "Reminds you a bit of the Screamers. They use everything but the human's squeal. Everything else they use until its only useful as Taxxon feed." (A/N: 2).

Rachel's jaw dropped. "They don't do that. What are we? 'Hamen' to them?" She snorted. "Then again, I'm not surprised, but still…"

"Hamen? Well, humans share most of their traits with pigs, so it's appropriate," Talon said casually. He started ticking them off his fingers. "Obesity, greed, and the digestive tract. Hmph. And no, I'm not lying. Unless it's some senator or whatever, they don't flinch at grinding up old geezers and serving them as—"

"Humans aren't pigs, Talon," Rachel said. "Well, unless you want to include yourself."

Talon rolled his eyes. "Never said I wasn't greedy. And those who aren't fall in the first category. Just take a look at the blubbery—"

"Dammit, Talon, that's enough," I snapped, and he turned to face me, amusement circulating in cartwheels around him. Last thing our group needed was Talon to be a dick to the Animorphs, especially after he'd lost any hope of anything besides correlative alliance with Aximili. Not that he probably cared. I jerked my chin at a figure coming toward us. "Examination time."

There was a reason none of us had come up with anything more creative for the Examiner's name: she had absolutely no distinguishing features, physical or otherwise, except for one that I didn't want Rachel or Cassie to hear and ponder about. Dull, moose-brown hair pulled back into a loose bun and donning similar colored blouse and skirt, she would've appeared business-like and strict like an underpaid math teacher or secretary, but her slack jaw, perpetually frowning lips, and obtuse, drained gaze made one almost wonder if she'd tried to swallow an entire container of Xanax at one point. The people passing by her on either side of the sidewalk offered her not even a passing glance.

Which was the point: the Examiner didn't want attention. She'd abandoned her first human host, but underneath the witless mask, both the Yeerk and human indiscreetly scanned the people around them. Whatever the Screamer had done before, it was enough to leave her paranoid enough that her aura singed and crackled against mine as she grew closer. Of course, I wondered if it could be as bad the crime she did now that had given her Talon's special nickname. Her lip curled as she took note of Rachel and Cassie; she only required Talon's and my presence and had often flipped out when Vertigo, Mercury, and Hollow were with us.

The Screamer's heels clicked in vexing repetition and she stopped before us, her irritation rising inch by inch in volume. "These two don't look like your usual filthy companions." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I thought Irey would take heed to my warnings. I swear, I think some of our possible Resistance candidates are beginning to recognize you, especially with your disorder." She glared at me.

"You can barely see her under the sweatshirt and everything," Cassie vouched for me. I pulled my hood further over my face and peered at the ground.

"They only see us once or twice anyway. Afterwards, they're on the Peace Movement or elsewhere," Talon said, sneering as he said the last word. "You're bitching up a lost cause, Phagous."

The Examiner ignored his words and focused her scowl on Cassie. "Who are you, anyway? Did they find you two on one of the filthy street corners of this city?"

I bit my tongue, knowing the blow was indirectly aimed at Mercury and Vertigo, especially when she leered at Talon, but Rachel glanced at me and shrugged, unperturbed. "You can call me Xena." She pointed at Cassie. "That's Jane. I'd like to say our corner only has dirt and gum on it." She said it with such sarcastic pride that I almost laughed.

The Examiner shook her head at Rachel's reply and glanced at Talon and me. "There'll be two of them. One has a Caucasian male host and the other is an African female host. They should arrive in three minutes." She checked the rubber band thin, black watch on her wrist. "Two." She pulled an inconspicuous packet out of her purse and gave us one final Screamer glare. "Don't make yourselves noticeable," she said, as though we were disrespectful children that were acting out at a dinner party or something ridiculous like that. She ripped open the brown bag and poured its powdery substance into her mouth as she stalked up the stairs.

"I don't know why she can't ever say 'white guy' and 'black girl'," Talon grumbled. "Is it that fucking hard not to sound like a damn robot?"

Cassie laughed. "Jane? Do I look plain or something?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow, her eyes focused on the fifth page of _The Jungle_. "Jane, you know, like from Tarzan? She turned her back on civilization and went to live with the monkeys." She grinned. "Thought you'd like the name. Either that or Tree-Hugger or Wolf-Girl."

"Jane'll do. And it was apes, not monkeys," Cassie corrected, chuckling as Rachel rotated her eyes skyward. Her face settled back into a more serious expression, brows tipped to each other, hunching her shoulders at a lower angle. "Was that packet what I think it was?"

Rachel dog-eared her page and handed the novel back to Talon. "What? I was reading when she went in. What did she have?"

"Instant maple-and-ginger oatmeal," Cassie said. "I don't know what else a Controller would carry that looked like that."

Rachel paled, shoving a hand over her face. "Please, please don't tell me they're still snorting Quaker meth," she groaned. "I'm still amazed the fricking Sharing didn't get the stuff banned after we filled the Pool with it and dunked the Visser in it." She shook her head in disbelief. "How isn't she stuck in an insane asylum? Or at least slobbering and muttering in alienease?"

"Hmph. If you knew Phagous, you'd know she was crazy anyway," Talon said. "Well, so she doesn't turn completely psycho, she has to consume something with Kandrona at least once a week." Talon sneered. "Plus, she and Meds found—by accident—the thing that balances out whatever the oatmeal contains that destroys the Yeerk's brain stem."

I kicked him at the word "Yeerk", scanning around us quickly for passers-by Screamers. I felt two at the far end of the sidewalk and saw the Examiner's two guests saunter casually toward us, talking amiably to each other as though they were oldest friends, smiles sketched on their faces. However, underneath that, tension surged inside them, preparing themselves to face the Screamer that had connections to that pesky Resistance that had for the most part acted as a major annoyance to their leader.

"What cancels it out?" Rachel asked curiously.

"Let's just say that Phagous keeps the liquor stores in business," Talon said.

Cassie leaned toward him. "Why do you keep calling her that? 'Phagous'?"

"I think it's Greek or Latin or some shit like that. It means something like 'one who eats'," Talon answered. "I'd put 'anthro' in front, but she doesn't—"

I gave him another swift blow to the thigh and he grumbled under his breath, ignoring Cassie's disgust evident even in its brevity across her face. The pair of Screamers swept past us, ignoring the bickering between homeless, for the most part, kids. I touched each tentatively, capturing the feel of each individual, catching glimpses of their thoughts as they grew closer to the Examiner. Nothing too intimate, nothing that could determine their loyalties yet.

I felt the tension escalate to a rigid tautness between Cassie and Talon, deaf to their conversation as waves of anger and disgust surged in one, while morbid enjoyment coursed through the other. Even though I didn't know the Screamer's name, I knew Cassie had guessed and there was no second-guessing her mind. Despite my curiosity and eagerness, I refrained from scratching at her mind, especially because I didn't want to look at the thoughts associated with it.

Oh no. I'd thought both Cassie and Rachel would be impressed at seeing what progress the Yeerk Resistance was making with adding new members. It wasn't much, but at the end of each month, we had at least ten new Screamers enlisted into the Yeerk Peace Movement, ones with hosts willing to fight against the Vissers and Council. Instead, Cassie thought of the Screamers who didn't want to join the Resistance, even the ones spying for Visser Three.

I stood up shakily, the tension between Talon and Cassie draining me emotionally as well as physically. Normally, Talon and I waited outside, at a safe distance where I could pick up tidbits of thoughts from inside, but right now I didn't want to be within the Animorph's eyesight. Running a tongue over my chapped lips, I asked, "Anyone got two bucks? I need a soda."

Rachel sighed, noticing the barbs flung between Talon and Cassie, even though their comments appeared vague. "Same here. C'mon, I've got ten." She jumped to her feet and grabbed my shoulder, pushing me toward the entrance. As we stepped inside, she swore. "Geez, this is almost as bad as the North Pole."

"What did you go there?" I snickered. "See Santa and his elves?"

Rachel shook her head. "Just a bunch of maniac, four-armed Frosty the Skaters."

I decided not to ask more.

The inside of _Lunar Rouge_ really did have the temperature of a freezer, sending a chill creeping through me as the powerful air conditioning hit us. I wrapped my arms around my torso, suddenly appreciating the full body garments covering my skin condition, and waited for my body to adjust to the cold. On the indigo walls hung cheap paintings of people in actual cafés, whereas this pseudo one only bore its French title due to cheesy repetitive foreign lyrics—I swear the guy kept singing "He la" or something—and the pleasurable doughy and earthy smells of bread and coffee. My stomach made its usual opinion of the matter, and Rachel and I slipped past the vacant hostess's stand.

"Talk about horrid service," Rachel muttered to herself, and I grinned, shaking my head.

The Examiner and the other two Screamers sat at a booth in one of the shadier corners, all three having ordered salads and bread so far. I bit the inside of cheek to hold in my laughter, watching the two Screamers stare in befuddlement as the Examiner chugged straight from a wine bottle. Rachel jabbed me with an elbow and led us to a table that the three wouldn't be able to see us.

Even with that little distance, I could still sense the unease in both as they watched the Examiner whatever glass she was on. Yeerks, from what Pro Metheus had told me in great detail, avoid anything containing alcohol, except for the occasional wine glass at a special occasion concerning the host. If they consume too much, the Yeerks' bodies soak up most of the alcohol traveling to the brain via the bloodstream, either acting recklessly and foolishly—like any human drunk, I figure—or/and loosing partial control of the human they've infested. Thankfully, after having 'testing' the substance's ability to balance out the oatmeal, the Examiner had a very strong tolerance.

"Of all the things to stay sensible," Rachel said. She stood up a bit, just enough to peer over at the three. "Hey, has Meds ever given her a liver transplant?"

"Don't think so. The Yeerks act like sponges and can't die from alcohol poisoning," I said, shrugging. "Weird, huh?"

Rachel's aura told me "weird" wouldn't be the word she'd call it. "So do you check them, now?"

I nodded. I closed my eyes and clapped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the eerie blue lighting and French music as I reached hesitantly across the room. Sure enough, the Yeerk-Examiner had yet to get to the point of smashed, so nothing besides a few passing thoughts slipped through his psyche. The woman-Examiner had launched into a discussion of the "president" a.k.a. the Emperor, fueled by her Yeerk's silent comments, most of which probably weren't flattering judging by the shocked responses in the other Screamers' auras.

I clicked my nails against the tabletop as I poked ineffectively at the Screamer guy, whose host cried out at a deafening and incoherent level, covering up the silent Yeerk's thoughts. Dammit. From the feel of it, the man had just started his ranting and wouldn't finish for a while. I sighed, switching my attention to the black woman, easily flicking through her surface thoughts and emotions. Nervous, suspicious, wary, but no sneaky intentions. The host half of the Screamer seemed pretty mellow, another good sign.

But the guy wouldn't crack…

Clenching my fists and slamming my heel into my chair, I muttered, "Sonuva bitch. Ow."

"No luck?" Rachel asked.

"What do you think?" I sighed. "It's almost like the guy knows I'm checking him."

"What's the problem?" Rachel asked. "Do we need to get closer to them?"

My eyes widened. "It'd help, but no. If they see us spying on them, we might get half a dozen Screamers storming in here. Or at least tracking us. And—" It wouldn't matter with me, but Rachel had a home and thus records the Screamers could look through. They'd know instantly she wasn't one of them.

She idly spun the salt shaker between her thumb and forefinger. "They're not going to see us."

"What, does Xena have the power of invisibility?" I drawled.

"Nope. You've been digging through too many comic books," Rachel whispered. "However, no one notices a couple flies on the wall." I grimaced at my denseness. Yeah, the morphing deal, I could shapeshift into any beast, how did I forget? "But before we do that, why did Talon call that lady a cannibal?" Her eyes narrowed to a squint. "What exactly happens to the people not getting into the Resistance?"

I sucked in a breath at the sudden onslaught of hostility seeping from her, making me perturbed as my fingers twitched slightly. "It's a joke. The Examiner has Talon…" I turned away as I continued, "collect the, erm, slugs. The ones who would sell the Resistance out to the Visser."

"So she, or it, whatever, can gobble them up, right?" Rachel asked. "Some joke. Strangely, I can't find reason to laugh." The shaker tipped after ceaseless spinning, spilling its white contents across the table. "Especially when that person is the brother—or sister, now—of Visser Three."

I winced, glancing around, but she wouldn't be dumb enough to say that name if someone was close enough to eavesdrop. "I know you hate how she uses the slugs to keep herself going and I know she's a bitch, but you don't have to say she's related to that bastard."

"Here's a tidbit from that neglected tissue in your skull: you said he uses the Internet to lure in other Controllers. Like your neighborhood pedophile," Rachel said. "Here's something from mine: over a year and a half ago, there was a chat site set up to talk about our slug pals, run by the famous and now missing Joe Bob Fenestre." She sighed at my blank look. "Marco could probably write a biography about him. Go ask him the history of Joe Bob."

"Okay," I mumbled.

Rachel grew serious again, her attitude practically condensing into a thick mist around me. "Every time he found another Controller, sometimes even a heap of them lurking on his site, he sought them out and cracked heads for the slugs." She glared. "Do you know how the Examiner gets the slugs now?"

"Yes," I said dryly.

"You know that that piece of shit over there getting plastered has people killed so she can eat her own?" Rachel snarled, her sudden swear making me shrink away slightly. Hearing it from Mercury or Talon, I would've dismissed it as one of their top ten most popular words. Hearing it from her, I could only begun to wonder how absolutely pissed she was.

"Yeah," I answered flatly, staring at the blonde girl, amazed. In the heat of a battle, she'd put the Amazon, Aello, to shame with the ruthlessness she'd shown the Screamers, tearing and crushing them in her bear morph. "Why are you so angry? You didn't hesitate to hurt anyone by the Pool. In fact, you looked and felt like you loved it as much as Talon." (A/N: 3).

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, then noticed that the restaurant had slowly begun to fill with actual customers and one of the waitresses had started to watch our table distrustfully, especially since neither of us had drinks or laminated order sheets. She muttered a curse, held my gaze and jerked her head to the women's restroom. An ominous shiver passing through my shoulders and backbone, I followed her reluctantly.

She checked all the stalls, pushing me into the handicap one as we reached the end of the room, and turning the latch into place. I stood by the sink while she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "There's a difference between fighting for your freedom and life against the Visser or dozens of his people and going after Screamers who have no chance against you. The latter could simply be a filthy, little coward who wants a crummy promotion, but, as you said, if the Examiner out there doesn't say much, nothing important at least, leave the guy alone."

"Still, don't you love hurting any Screamer? Make them pay for everything you've gone through?" I asked.

"I love a good brawl. Like you said, it's a great way to show your rage to them, but only if you're evenly matched. My grizzly against half a dozen Hork-Bajir? It's great to know that in the midst of this war, if I can still fight them hand-to-hand, or claw-to-paw, really, and survive, by some chance we'll win," Rachel said, so calmly as though this was an everyday thought to her.

I remained silent. She hadn't answered my question completely.

Rachel smirked humorlessly. "Oh, you think that applies to one Screamer as well? That I'd stalk someone and tear out his throat in wolf morph or something, just because he's a Screamer? No, that sounds like something the slugs would do."

I forced my glare away from her, putting a piece of my attention into counting the squares of toilet paper scattered across the floor. "Doesn't it at least help in the long run? One less Screamer faithful to the Empire, one less trouble for us." I bit my tongue, knowing my words sounded like they'd jumped straight from Talon's mouth, but I wanted to hear her response.

"Is that so? The other Animorphs and I have a list of over fifty known Controllers in our state," Rachel said, pausing as my brows flicked upwards. "Yep. That's fifty less would-be opponents if we took them out when they least expected us. In fact, if we ended up in a fight during one of our missions and worst came to worst, I wouldn't falter in taking some out." She waited for me to stop my pointless counting of paper and return my gaze to her. "But we're fighting the war to save the human race, not eliminating a giant portion to save the whole."

I shuddered, thinking of Meds's own words concerning the Hork-Bajir virus: _As much as they preach about saving the other races' freedoms, they will destroy a few to rescue the whole._ Good lord, if she was right, we were acting like hypocrites by killing in a similar matter. Nauseous and burning from her aura as though I'd drunk a glass of salt water, I grumbled, "How long will it take to free these people? Months, years maybe?"

"However long it takes," she said simply, shrugging.

I shook my head. "You can't hear them, Rachel, like I can. I feel and hear every plea for any kind of freedom, even death, from their helplessness. Of being trapped in the cocoon of their traitorous bodies. When the Screamers got my dad as well as me, not even a year had passed before they'd sapped his mental strength, before he was a shell, a tool, not my father." My throat constricted at the sudden memories of feeling him sink farther and farther away from reality with the other Screamers, losing the will even to fight for his daughter, whose Yeerk had constantly put me through tests. "If you ask me, they'd probably thank us for relieving them of the life of slaves."

Sneakers squeaked as Rachel stormed towards me. I stared at the tiled floor, so I didn't see the hand that seized my hair and I yelped, my head pulled next to hers. "So show we go everywhere and slaughter all those Screamers. The people with families and friends, the ones who had lives and dreams before that filth slithered into their ears." She snickered. "Then again, you're into that Greek stuff. They always had blood sacrifice to get what they wanted, didn't they? So their gods rewarded them with victory. Does Meds use his Kandrona to excuse having a cannibal work for him?"

Amazed the knuckles didn't pop and crack as I curled my fists; I took the blow and retaliated at another angle, invisible hands that had nothing to do with my empathy squeezing my neck. "You think I'm lying? When the visser killed him, I could sense one thing in my father's soul." A source of my nightmares. "R-relief. Not pain or anger or fear, but relief. Fucking relief. That's it. He was tired of being a slug's toy."

The hand holding my hair released it and I sunk to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. A spark of sympathy flashed in Rachel's aura, as she placed a hand on my shoulder. "My cousin, Jake's older brother, is a Screamer. The first night I fought and morphed, three years ago, he refused to remain submissive and roll over to the Yeerks. When he was free for a millisecond from his cage, he turned around and tried to attack the visser in morph." She laughed at my sudden look of disbelief. "No kidding."

I snorted. "Insanity must run in your family," I said, without the spite that still lingered in me. "But, still, that was years ago. He might be broken now."

"True, but he's still Tom, the one who tried to fight an eight-headed fire monster," Rachel said. "And I'm sorry about your dad, but that's the core reason we fight. We're going to prove the them wrong and free them one day after we and the Andalites defeat the Yeerks."

I released a breath, my chest still tight and stiff. "And what about the Yeerks who just want to see and hear? Ones like Meds?"

Rachel laughed softly. "One question at a time, Dem. After the Yeerks and us are done trying to obliterate the other, we'll figure that one out."

Yeah, that was enough questions for now, especially since a migraine had already started from Rachel's emotional assault and I held my head, trying to ride out the pain. "You're right. Let's go."

"Wait a moment. You still have to check one of those Screamers, don't you?" Rachel asked, stripping off her shirt and revealing an odd colored purple leotard that could only look good on someone with her face and figure. "How long do these meetings last?"

"Until the barkeeper cuts the Examiner off," I said. "So we should still have twenty minutes."

"You call my family insane. You're trusting secrets to an alcoholic," Rachel scoffed. "If the guy ends up being a spy, we'll keep him under surveillance. No hunting or, erm, eating."

"The Examiner is going to be pissed about that," I said, pursing my lips. "Still, I thought you'd be the kind of person who'd like that tactic." I swallowed my tongue the moment that left my lips. I wanted to leave that conversation behind _now_. There were too many things that Rachel had shredded with her words.

Instead of snapping back at me, Rachel grinned lacking any happiness. "Maybe once I would've, so it's probably a good thing I was leader for a short time." She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans, tucking them along with her shirt behind the toilet. "Besides, we told Joe Bob that if he ever left his home, he'd be at our mercy for his crimes. He's lucky I'm not going bear or elephant right now. Now, come on and morph fly."

"Um, I still haven't gotten anything to replace the underwear the last morph tore apart," I said. Though not as much of a blooper as Mercury's nudie demorph, yesterday when I'd demorphed from the cockroach, my underwear had come back as strips. Thankfully, Hollow, Mercury, and I had been only with Rachel, Cassie, and Aximili, who found the idea of clothing in the first place humorous. Talon and Vertigo had been with Marco, Jake, and Tobias.

"We have the same stuff and I'll lend you one of my old leotards later," Rachel said. "So hurry up." Her eyes exploded out of her sockets, big as ostrich eggs, ruby red, and faceted, covering most of her face.

"Ahh!" My back smacked the wall, and I slapped a hand over my lips. That morph still made me sick.

"You already know it gets nastier," Rachel said, her voice strangled and high-pitched. As though to prove it, her skin and leotard became black and hardened, resembling the burnt pockets of skin of hotdogs that have been over a fire too long. The space between her two enormous eyes, what had been her chin, mouth, and nostrils, squished together with a crunching and sucking noise, becoming a mixture of hose and tongue, with a sticky, slimy pad at the end. Even the vengeful, scary Erinyes couldn't compare. (A/N: 4).

As barbed bristles emerged from my limbs and translucent, veined wings grew between my shoulder blades, I shoved our talk into a corner of my mind. I'd speak with Meds about it later, hopefully sometime in the next few days. Meanwhile, I'd be sure to give the Screamer guy a headache after I checked him. I needed a little payment for the crap I go through, don't I?

&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&/&

There's a story behind the alcohol-balances-oatmeal thing: I was hanging out at my cousin's post prom party in her basement and one dude found a spider under his seat. Yeah. He was drunk as hell and threw beer at it, apparently under the impression, "alcohol kills anything". (I think it just killed his brain cells, personally. Can't say much, since I wasn't a symbol of sobriety, either at the moment.) So, while I was writing Chapter Nine, about how Esplin the Lesser could've survived for so long, and that little thought bubble came up. (shrugs) I missed Phagous, though he'll probably only get big parts in "A Sight of Blue".

I love Rachel, getting straight to the point. (sigh) Did anyone else ever notice that out of the six Animorph POV's, her books always seemed a step behind in the vocab department? Maybe because she's mostly an action taker, but I wanted soooo badly to write a chap about her rarely seen rational side. So, good or bad chapter with it?

Anywho, here's the Author's Notes of the story:

A/N: 1—Pluto, the Roman version of Hades, the god of death and the underworld, one of my personal favorite Greek gods besides Artemis and Demeter.

A/N: 2—"They use everything but the pig's squeal" was one of the jokes in "The Jungle". It made an ironic point of how the manufacturers used the immigrant employees until they were too broken or sick to work. Talon's using the same comparison for the Yeerks and their hosts. He's a cynical little boy, ain't he?

A/N: 3—Aello, whose name means "whirlwind", was a double-axe wielder, making her a deadly opponent in battle. She was the first to die by Heracles since he was pretty much invincible wearing the skin of a lion from one of his previous quests. (sigh) Of course, any woman warrior who fought the Greeks tended to end up the loser in, you know, _Greek_ mythology. Pfft.

A/N: 4—The Erinyes (or Furies) are a delightful bunch. The three of them, Tisiphone, Megara, and Alecto, were older than the Greek gods and brought punishment against sinners, especially those who committed sins against one's kin. To simply look at one would cause insanity and no kidding: the had the forms of ebony-black crones with dog heads covered in snake hair and bloodshot eyes, with bat wings as an added touch. (Oddly, they are also called The Kindly Ones, cause apparently they had a personality makeover like Sekhmet/Hathor.)


End file.
